Cultural Cosmopolitanism and Hybridity in the Practices of Contemporary Jazz Double Bass Players
Benjamin Robert Phipps
A thesis in fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Music.
School of Arts and Media
Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences
December 2017
COPYRIGHT STATEMENT
‘I hereby grant the University of New South Wales or its agents the right to archive and to make available my thesis or dissertation in whole or part in the University libraries in all forms of media, now or here after known, subject to the provisions of the Copyright Act 1968. I retain all proprietary rights, such as patent rights. I also retain the right to use in future works (such as articles or books) all or part of this thesis or dissertation. I also authorise University Microfilms to use the 350 word abstract of my thesis in Dissertation Abstract International (this is applicable to doctoral theses only). I have either used no substantial portions of copyright material in my thesis or I have obtained permission to use copyright material; where permission has not been granted I have applied/will apply for a partial restriction of the digital copy of my thesis or dissertation.'
Signed ……………………………………………......
Date ……………………………………………......
AUTHENTICITY STATEMENT
‘I certify that the Library deposit digital copy is a direct equivalent of the final officially approved version of my thesis. No emendation of content has occurred and if there are any minor variations in formatting, they are the result of the conversion to digital format.’
Signed ……………………………………………......
Date ……………………………………………...... PLEASE TYPE THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW SOUTH WALES Thesis/Dissertation Sheet
Surname or Family name: Phipps
First name: Benjamin Other name/s: Robert
Abbreviation for degree as given in the University calendar: Ph.D.
School: School of Arts and Media Faculty: Arts and Social Sciences
Title: Cultural cosmopolitanism and hybridity in the practices of contemporary jazz double bass players
I Abstract 350 words maximum: (PLEASE TYPE)
Abstract
This thesis examines the musical and social practices of contemporary double bass players who perform jazz and world music. It contributes to the limited literature on the performance practices of contemporary double bass players by examining the place of the double bass player musically in ensembles, and socially within the jazz scene. It draws I attention to how understandings of the role of the bass, and cultural hybridity impact on the selection of performance practices such as improvisation. In doing so it contributes an important perspective on how hybrid musical practices and their relationship to musical hierarchy mediate musical and social identities. In conducting this research, fieldwork was undertaken using ethnographic methods and musical analysis in Sydney, Australia, between 2013 and 2016. The argument of the thesis takes a case study approach and examines the development of new performance practices, the maintenance of older ones and incorporation of world music in the work of bass players. The case studies include: a sample group of bass player accompanists, and ensemble leaders Lloyd Swanton, leader of The Necks and The catholics; and Jessica Dunn, leader of Sirens Big Band. Through these case studies I will demonstrate some of the ways in which double bass players have developed and implemented idiosyncratic and innovative approaches to improvisation and the performance practices used on the instrument while maintaining reference to the role of the bass developed in jazz. In doing so the thesis will explore change and continuity in the musical roles traditionally assigned to double bass players in jazz ensembles and the ways in which approaches to improvisation are developed. The thesis puts forward the argument that double bass players predominantly take a cosmopolitan approach to music-making that reflects their experience of moving between and borrowing from different styles in performances.
Declaration relating to disposition of project thesis/dissertation
I hereby grant to the University of New South Wales or its agents the right to archive and to make available my thesis or dissertation in whole or in part in the University libraries in all forms of media, now or here after known, subject to the provisions of the Copyright Act 1968. I retain all property rights, such as patent rights. I also retain the right to use in future works (such as articles or books) all or part of this thesis or dissertation.
I also authorise University Microfilms to use the 350 word abstract of my thesis in DissertationAbstracts international (this is applicable to doctoral theses only).
The University recognises that there may be exceptional circumstances requiring restrictions on copying or conditions on use. Requests for restriction for a period of up to 2 years must be made in writing. Requests for a longer period of restriction may be considered in exceptional circumstances and reauire the aooroval of the Dean of Graduate Research.
FOR OFFICE USE ONLY Date of completion of requirements for Award:
II % # # ! ! # ! # ! # ! ! # # " ! ! # # ! ! ! ! " # ! #!! " " # " !& $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
iii Abstract
This thesis examines the musical and social practices of contemporary double bass players who perform jazz and world music. It contributes to the limited literature on the performance practices of contemporary double bass players by examining the place of the double bass player musically in ensembles, and socially within the jazz scene. It draws attention to how understandings of the role of the bass, and cultural hybridity impact on the selection of performance practices such as improvisation. In doing so it contributes an important perspective on how hybrid musical practices and their relationship to musical hierarchy mediate musical and social identities. In conducting this research, fieldwork was undertaken using ethnographic methods and musical analysis in Sydney, Australia, between 2013 and 2016. The argument of the thesis takes a case study approach and examines the development of new performance practices, the maintenance of older ones and incorporation of world music in the work of bass players. The case studies include: a sample group of bass player accompanists, and ensemble leaders Lloyd Swanton, leader of The Necks and The catholics; and Jessica Dunn, leader of Sirens Big Band. Through these case studies I will demonstrate some of the ways in which double bass players have developed and implemented idiosyncratic and innovative approaches to improvisation and the performance practices used on the instrument while maintaining reference to the role of the bass developed in jazz. In doing so the thesis will explore change and continuity in the musical roles traditionally assigned to double bass players in jazz ensembles and the ways in which approaches to improvisation are developed. The thesis puts forward the argument that double bass players predominantly take a cosmopolitan approach to music-making that reflects their experience of moving between and borrowing from different styles in performances.
iv Acknowledgements
I would like to especially thank my supervisor Dr. John Napier for his unwavering dedication, support and expert guidance. His knowledge, analysis and advice has had a great impact on the quality of this work. I would also like to thank my co- supervisor Associate Professor Manolete Mora for his feedback, guidance and support. I am also grateful to Dr. Michael Hooper and Professor Dorottya Fabian for their feedback during postgraduate reviews and comments on sections of this thesis.
Thank you to the Graduate Research School for the financial support provided me during my research at UNSW through an Australian Government Research Training Program Stipend Scholarship (previously Australian Postgraduate Award (APA)) which funded this research and a Postgraduate Research Support Scheme grant which enabled me to present at several conferences overseas.
A special mention is needed for my research participants without whom this project would not be possible. In particular, I would like to thank Lloyd Swanton and Jessica Dunn for their tremendous generosity in sharing so much of their time with me and revealing much of the inner workings of their music-making. I would also like to thank Brendan Clarke, Philip Rex, Thomas Botting, Kate Pass, Waldo Garrido and Abel Cross who all generously gave their time and perspective over the course of this research.
I would like to extend a heartfelt thankyou to my parents, Jenny and Rob and my sister Liz whose unwavering support, inspiration and love has been so crucial to the completion of this thesis.
Lastly this thesis is dedicated in loving memory, to my father Robert John Phipps, a passionate educator who would have been overjoyed at this thesis’ completion.
v TABLE OF CONTENTS
Abstract iv
Acknowledgements v
List of Musical Examples ix
List of Audio Examples xi
Introduction 1
Purpose and Rationale 1
Thesis Structure 9
Chapter One: Cosmopolitanism, Hybridity and Musical Practice 13
1.1 Examining Cultural Cosmopolitanism and Musical Practice 13
1.2 Establishing the relationship of cosmopolitanism and cultural hybridity in musical practice 23
Theoretical and practical perspectives on hybrid musical creativity
and articulating socio-cultural identity 26
Jazz and Stross’ cultural hybridity cycle 35
1.3 Gender Scholarship on Jazz Performance 38
1.4 Jazz and improvisation study in the local context 43
Chapter Two: Researching from a position of relative sameness 50
2.1 Researcher position: dealing with difference, similarity and sameness 50
The continuing centrality of dialogue to researcher position and approach 56
Getting inside musical performance / Getting into dialogues about musical performance 61
2.2 Research design and the realities of fieldwork 63
Talking about music 60
Interpretation and Writing 63
Presentation of Musical Examples 64
Chapter Three: Discourse, history and context of the role of the bass player accompanist 72
3.1 Literature on accompaniment roles in musicology and ethnomusicology 72
3.2 Positioning significant bassists in historical and pedagogical performance discourse on the bass accompaniment role. 80
3.3 The context of cultural hybridity in the bass accompaniment role 83
Chapter Four: Holding it down: A fieldwork study of bass player accompanists 94
vi 4.1 How participants view the bass role and ensemble organisation 94
4.2 Defining improvisation in the role of the bass accompanist 104
4.3 New trajectories on firm foundations 108
4.4 The bass role and improvisation across cultures 111
Philip Rex and the Australian Art Orchestra 112
Kate Pass and Tara Tiba 119
4.5 Translating the bass role to leadership – Brendan Clarke’s Bopstretch. 127
Conclusions 131
Chapter Five: Contextualising bass players who are ensemble leaders 133
5.1 Survey of bass player ensemble leaders 134
5.2 Charles Mingus: Bassist, Composer, Improviser, Ensemble leader 139
5.3 Renaud Garcia-Fons 144
Snapshot of Garcia-Fons’ improvisational approach and hybridity 149
Chapter Six: Reimagining the role of the bass player: The case of Lloyd Swanton 155
6.1 Cosmopolitan engagement with improvisation, jazz and the double bass. 156
6.2 The catholics: Reimagining the bass through world music 162
6.3 Vamping: Improvising to a different tune in the Necks 168
Improvising in The Necks: the lineage and genesis of Swanton’s approach to
strumming the bass 170
The development of arco practices in improvisation with The Necks 174
6.6 Back to the Bassics 178
Back to bassics: accompanying in hybrid contexts 182
6.7 Listening for meaning 184
Chapter Seven: Sounding the alarm: Jessica Dunn and Sirens Big Band 189
7.1 Sounding the Alarm: The Formation of Sirens Big Band -
Negotiating gender locally in contemporary jazz 190
7.2 Authenticity in relation to cross-cultural performance 191
7.3 Multicultural Objectives, cosmopolitanism and local authenticity 196
7.4 Leading the Sirens in Rehearsal and Performance 197
Preparing for the Bass solo on Hawasa to Addis 200
7.5 Cultural and individual authenticity in collaboration 202
Collaboration with Sandy Evans 202
Collaboration with Mohammed Youssef 205
vii Influence of Arabic music on Dunn’s approach to bass playing/improvising 212
7.6 In the moment of performance: Authentication from the musical to the social 214
Conclusion 218
References 226
Discography 240
Video References 244
Interview List 245
Appendix (a) ‘Home’ 246
viii List of Musical Examples
Example 1. ‘Triste’, Wave (1967). Bass line excerpt. 00:00:15 Transcription. Example 2. ‘Triste’, Unspoken (2002). Bass line excerpt. 00:00:18 Transcription. Example 3. ‘All the Things You Are’, The Art of The Trio, 4: Back at the Vanguard (1999). Bass line, unpublished transcription (Trapchak, 2002, 67). Mm.1-18. Example 4. ‘Ivory Cutlery’, Liminal (2014). Bass line and piano interaction excerpt. 00:01:22 Transcription. Example 5. ‘5-19’, Liminal (2014). Bass solo intro blues phrase excerpt. 00:00:00Transcription. Example 6. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, The Chennai Sessions (2009). Bass line excerpt 00:00:00 Transcription. Example 7. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, The Chennai Sessions (2009). Bass line excerpt. 00:07:39 Transcription. Example 8. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, The Chennai Sessions (2009). Bass and Ghatam improvised trading duet excerpt. 00:05:33 Transcription. Example 9. ‘I'm Getting Sentimental Over You’, Stretch (2013). Bass solo introduction excerpt. 00:00:00 Transcription. Example 10. ‘Ysabel's Table Dance’, Tijuana Moods recorded in 1957 (1962). Bass double stop riff excerpt. 00:01:30 Transcription. Example 11. ‘Cristobal’, Entremundo (2009). Bass arco improvisation interlude. 00:00:40 Transcription. Example 12. ‘Home’, Simple (1994). Bass line excerpt. 00:00:43 Transcription.
Example 13. ‘Yonder’, Yonder (2012). Saxophone solo and bass line accompaniment excerpt. 00:04:46 – 00:06:12 Transcription.
Example 14. ‘Interview with author’ (2014). Swanton’s interpretation of Charlie Haden pedal point bass line excerpt. Transcription from unpublished interview.
Example 15. ‘Ramblin'’, Change of the Century (1960). Bass line excerpt. 00:00:12 Transcription.
Example 16. ‘Interview with author’ (2014). Swanton’s interpretation of Charlie Haden strumming. Transcription from unpublished interview.
Example 17. ‘Interview with author’ (2014). Swanton’s development of the octave strumming. Transcription from unpublished interview.
Example 18. ‘Townsville’, Townsville (2007). Tremolo bowing and cymbal rhythm. 00:00:00 Transcription.
ix Example 19. ‘Townsville’, Townsville (2007). Tremolo bowing and cymbal rhythm. 00:00:23 Transcription.
Example 20. ‘Townsville’, Townsville (2007). Tremolo bowing and cymbal rhythm. 00:00:44 Transcription.
Example 21. ‘Townsville’, Townsville (2007). Tremolo bowing and cymbal rhythm. 00:01:03 Transcription.
Example 22. ‘Marco Polo Goes West’, Mercury (2006). Bass solo and piano comping excerpt. 00:04:19 Transcription.
Example 23. ‘Kali and The Time of Change’, Kali and the Time of Change (2012b). Bass improvisation excerpt. 00:02:57 Transcription.
Example 24. ‘Zaruni – Ashams’, Soundcloud (2015). Bass improvisation excerpt 1. 00:00:00 Transcription.
Example 25. ‘Zaruni – Ashams’, Soundcloud (2015). Bass improvisation excerpt 2. 00:00:23 Transcription.
Example 26. Appendix (a) Swanton, Lloyd. 1994. ‘Home’, Simple. Bass line and guitar melody excerpt. 00:00:50-00:01:44 Transcription.
x List of Audio Examples
Audio examples can be found on the USB at the rear of the thesis unless otherwise indicated.
Audio Example 1. Track 1. Jobim, Antonio Carlos. 1967. ‘Triste’, on Wave. New York: Verve Music Group.
Audio Example 2. Track 2. Cunningham, Adrian. 2002. ‘Triste’, Unspoken. Sydney: Sony Studios.
Audio Example 3. Track 3. Brad Mehldau Trio. 1999. ‘All the Things You Are’, The Art of The Trio, 4: Back at the Vanguard: New York: Warner Bros. Records.
Audio Example 4. Track 4. Jex Saarelaht Trio. 2014b. ‘Ivory Cutlery’ on Liminal. Melbourne: Jazzahead.
Audio Example 5. Track 5. Jex Saarelaht Trio. 2014a. ‘5-19’, on Liminal. Melbourne: Jazzahead.
Audio Example 6. Track 6. Evans, Sandra. 2009. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, on Australian Art Orchestra and Karaikudi R. Mani. 2009. The Chennai Sessions. North Melbourne: Australian Art Orchestra Recordings.
Audio Example 7. Track 7. Tiba, Tara. 2014. ‘Lamba Bada’ on A Persian Dream. Perth: Tara Tiba.
Audio Example 8. Track 8. Clarke, Brendan. 2013a. ‘I'm Getting Sentinmental Over You’, on Stretch. Sydney: Brendan Clarke Music.
Audio Example 9. Track 9. Mingus, Charles. ‘Fables of Faubus’ on Cornell 1964. New York: Blue Note Records.
Audio Example 10. Track 10 Mingus, Charles. 1962. ‘Ysabel's Table Dance’, on Tijuana Moods. New York: RCA Victor.
Example 11. Track 11. Mingus, Charles. 2012. ‘Ysabel's Table Dance’, on Charles Mingus and The Jazz Workshop All Stars. E.U.: Rare Live Recordings. Excerpt.
Audio Example 12. Track 12. Garcia-Fons, R. 2004. ‘Cristobal’, on Entremundo. Munich: Enja.
Audio Example 13. Track 13. Swanton, Lloyd. 1994. ‘Home’, on Simple. Sydney: Bugle Records.
Audio Example 14. Track 14. Swanton, Lloyd. 2012. ‘Yonder’. on Yonder.
xi Sydney: Bugle Records.
Audio Example 15. Track 15. Coleman, Ornette. 1960. ‘Ramblin'’, on Change of the Century. New York: Atlantic.
Audio Example 16. Track 16. The Necks. 2007. ‘Townsville’, on Townsville. Sydney: Fish of Milk.Excerpt.
Audio Example 17. Track 17. Alister Spence Trio. 2006. ‘Marco Polo Goes West’, on Mercury. Sydney: Rufus Records.
Audio Example 18. Track 18. Wells, Ruth. 2012. ‘Hawassa to Addis’, on Kali and the Time of Change. Sydney: Sirens Big Band.
Audio Example 19. Online. Dunn, J. 2015. ‘Zaruni – Ashams’, Soundcloud, [accessed 23 March 2016]. Available at: https://soundcloud.com/jaidee- 1/zaruni-ashams
Audio Example 20. Track 19. Coleman, Ornette. 1965 ‘Dawn’, At the Golden Circle Vol 1 & 2. New York: Blue Note.
xii Introduction
Purpose and Rationale of the Study
The field of ethnomusicology has produced several well-known scholarly perspectives on the practices of jazz rhythm sections, in particular the ethnographies of Ingrid Monson (1996) and Paul Berliner (1994). However, these have been focused on jazz musicians working within particular styles and have specifically dealt with swing based idioms rather than the diverse practices that jazz musicians in reality play. Taking double bass players working predominantly in Sydney, one of Australia’s largest jazz centres, I examine the ways in which double bass players make music with a particular interest in improvisation, and assert that the influence of cultural hybridity is one of the most persuasive forces that shapes double bass players’ musical and social roles and the aesthetics of performance practice on the instrument. The thesis builds on Monson and Berliner’s work by focusing on how responses to cultural hybridity by jazz trained bass players have differed from established jazz practice. It illuminates the way they deal with hybridity through learning and creative experimentation noted by Gerald Delanty as fundamental to cultural cosmopolitanism (2006). In examining the relationship of cultural hybridity to the musical practices of double bass players I suggest new ways of understanding the social and musical role of the double bass player. The ethnomusicological literature has discussed the role of the double bass player as an accompanist, but this role and its musical practices’ relationship to ensemble structures and social hierarchies have been accepted with only minimal analysis. One of the central questions that shapes this thesis concerns how this role shapes and is shaped by the aesthetics and performance practices of musicians who play the instrument in jazz and culturally hybrid contexts. I argue that performance practice and musical-social role are closely entwined and have in part precipitated the need for bass players to embrace musical difference in a culturally cosmopolitan way. In the local context this is linked to the need to be able to work in hybrid performance contexts in order to work consistently but this has developed beyond mere versatility to a practice which requires the learning of musical difference and ultimately cultural understanding. However, this need to work in hybrid contexts and develop appropriate performance practices is tempered by the underpinning of jazz traditions of performance practice that have enduring importance to most practitioners and have formed the basis of their primary training. Consequently, performers often characterise their musicianship in regards to, and identify their musical style as emanating from jazz while simultaneously attempting to cross genre borders. I further develop the area of research by examining the approaches of bass players who are ensemble leaders and how this social and
1 musical role often, when drawing on hybridity, has created new sound aesthetics and performance practices.
The focus on the musical practices of double bass players in exploring contemporary jazz and hybrid music-making originally extended from my personal interest in how and why people improvise and incorporate other styles. While this thesis is more broadly a study of jazz musicianship in contemporary Australia, the focus on the musical practice of double bass players is offered as a case study of local musicians who have a history of and identify as having a jazz background. However, these musicians also devote considerable time to work in hybrid musical contexts. This is a case study in which my own background as a double bass player can inform the research and analytical processes.
The research is not however, auto-ethnographic; instead it combines participant observation and musical analysis. Over the course of the fieldwork I interviewed musicians both formally, whereby interviews were recorded and transcribed, and informally at gigs. Where access was granted and deemed appropriate I also observed rehearsals of various projects, particularly in relation to my key research consultants, Lloyd Swanton and Jessica Dunn.
The writing and development of this thesis’ theoretical approach occurred in tandem with the fieldwork, due to my close proximity to the latter. As a result, elements of theoretical and musical analysis were integrated into my discussion with double bass players about their musical and social practice, further developing the research. In this sense the approach has been dialogical and I have sought out opportunities to explain my thinking to research consultants in the hope of more accurately reflecting their experience. There are, however, practical limitations to a dialogical approach to ethnographic research, many of which are outlined in Chapter Two. As a result, while I enjoyed a greater degree of dialogue with my key research consultants due to the practicalities of schedules and the level of interest on the research consultants’ part, this was not possible with every musician involved in the project.
The musical analysis used is partly drawn from this fieldwork process and is included to visually demonstrate musical practice as part of the thesis’ argument. At other times, while analysis is informed by the fieldwork process, it is in fact representative of different examples than those discussed, chosen because of their ability to represent key musical concepts in the argument effectively. These
2 examples are presented either by verbal description of the music or transcription. By and large, discussion with musicians avoided discussing transcription or visual reference because it was not appropriate to the context or impeded discussion as it was deemed of limited value by participants. Occasionally I discussed particular audio recordings with musicians to focus discussion in interviews on particular musical approaches and enable commentary on specific sections of music. However, this was also only appropriate in certain circumstances, an issue cited by Monson who used this technique extensively (1996, 19).
This study presents a perspective that attempts to bridge the gap between literature centred around the jazz tradition and the practices of contemporary bass players. I do this by focusing on how and what these musicians play particularly in relation to improvisation as a way to bring to light musical contributions and social relationships that would otherwise be missed. I also position how musicians negotiate cultural hybridity as central to such performance which allows for the inclusion of musical performances traditionally marginalised by jazz history’s conception of the role and sound of the bass player. The result is a more nuanced understanding of bass players’ contribution to improvisation and jazz.
The representation, documentation and analysis of the musical practices of double bass players has received limited focus in scholarly literature and jazz histories, a problem initially outlined by Chevan (1989). The literature that does exist is limited in its scope but has grown in the last two decades largely in relation to pedagogical studies of performance practices and practice based research. It is characterised by a focus on well-known jazz legends who were predominantly sidemen accompanists and occasionally ‘genius’ soloists such as Jimmie Blanton or composer–leaders like Charles Mingus. The result of this is that jazz bass practice has been narrowly defined. Partly due to the dominance of orthodox jazz narratives, only a minimal amount of literature has examined the relationship between contemporary bass players’ musical practices, their everyday experience and the formation of social identities.
However the application of the approach I have taken extends beyond the practices of double bass players. The nature of contemporary musical performance and the industry itself means that many musicians, regardless of the instrument they play,
3 are required to deal with hybrid musical situations as part of their work. The usefulness of bass players as a case study lies in their role providing the foundation of the band’s ensemble performance. This role requires them to utilise the sympathetic and complementary skills they develop as an accompanist to integrate different styles in the one performance context. This integration of different styles has been central to the development of performance practice on the instrument. In this sense the musical practices of double bass players become a lens through which the thesis explores practices across the composition–improvisation spectrum which can facilitate performing appropriately in hybrid, stylistic in-between spaces. By examining the role of hybridity in this process it also reveals the centrality of understanding socio-musical codes at play in performance when working in jazz and cross-cultural performance contexts. In this way double bass players’ work is involved in transforming musical and social identity through encounters with people and their music. Such negotiation of extant social and musical codes in multiple styles requires bass players to find ways of performing that are perceived as appropriate and authentic.
In relation to these broadened musical and social practices of double bass players in Chapter One I develop the use of cosmopolitanism by Kwame Anthony Appiah (2006) as a recognition of the fundamental ties between all people and a desire to embrace and learn from difference and Delanty’s development of cosmopolitanism as requiring ‘a learning process, that is an internal cognitive transformation’ of the self in relation to others to be cosmopolitan (2006, 41). I argue that in the face of conflicting and contradictory meanings over what it means to play jazz and hybrid musics in Australia, such cosmopolitan behaviour becomes a core feature of musicians’ identity. In this sense the use of methodological nationalism to study music-making in Australia has limited efficacy in understanding social identity because it is contradictory to the hybrid contexts and practices of local musicians. However, the use of national identity to group such musicians is effective in making local jazz a relevant product in a national music market and connecting it with the geographic locality of the scene.
Throughout the thesis much time is spent discussing the nature and practice of improvisation as it is used by double bass players. It forms an undercurrent throughout the thesis along with iterations in relation to practices such as ‘playing time’ (Solis 2002, 87). As such the concept of improvisation is developed throughout the thesis. However, I will briefly define its usage below before
4 continuing to Chapter One. Almost two decades have passed since Bruno Nettl noted the neglected state of musical scholarship on improvisation (1998). Nettl was optimistic about the ongoing progress being made in the field across cultures and academic disciplines and saw this as a result of the ‘increasing respectability of research in non-western cultures’ (1998, 4). Subsequent years have seen a rise in scholarship of improvisation across musicology that has engaged in rethinking the relationship between performer and composer. The result of this has seen a move away from seeing improvisation in opposition to pre-composition: a binary through which the concept had previously been defined. This binary was dominated by the view that composition occurred prior to performance, was structured and related to a written text, and that improvisation was spontaneous and created in the moment of performance. Nettl wrote at the time that ‘the distinction between the concepts of performance practice, improvisation, and, indeed composition in (at the very least) oral traditions is an unsolved issue’ (1998, 12). In contemporary scholarship, greater clarity about the nature of improvisation has not necessarily been the result of analysis in terms of universalist definitions of composition or improvisation but the product of analysis done in reference to contextual specificity, where the extant social codes that govern musical performance can be observed to determine what is and isn’t improvisation.
Laudan Nooshin has explored how western discourse on the performer and composer, and initial perceptions of spontaneous performance in musical traditions such as Iranian classical music as improvisation, reflect ideological perceptions of the cultural value in different types of music-making and the capacity for them to be reified in different contexts (2003, 43). Nooshin points out the exceptionalism given to improvisation as the binary opposite of composition in some academic discourse on Jazz, yet this ‘othering’ is often resisted by musicians themselves in discussing their performance practices (2003, 258-259). In this sense the composition– improvisation binary continues to exist in relation to the social significance of the idea as much as their practice, as such scholars continue to deal with the differences and similarities of music that is written down and music which exists in performance (Nooshin 2003).
While there is a practical distinction to be made between the two approaches, the practices are somewhat resistant to theorisation individually
5 because of their similarities. As a result, one of the most significant developments in understanding the nature and role of improvisation in musical performance is the drawing of connections rather than distinctions between composition and improvisation. Nettl himself had suggested that the relationship may in fact be more of a continuum and may be determined in relation to cultural context in his article ‘Thoughts on Improvisation: A Comparative Approach’ (1974) and continues to do so in discussing improvisation (2014). Nettl has argued improvisation is shaped by ‘a series of conventions or implicit rules’ which emanate from context (Nettl 2012 cited in Watson 2012, 17). In this way improvisation is shaped by learning processes and established cultural codes as Watson has shown which are socially sanctioned as improvised (2012).
Nooshin points out that while perspectives of improvisation as involving pre-learnt rules and codes dominates how musicians and scholars have seen the practice since the 1990s, lingering political associations of improvisation as opposed to the structures of composition in western discourse continue to shape the idea’s use. In this way discourse uses improvisation as an idea which signifies the ‘other’, ‘freedom’ or even disorganisation, depending on the context of its use (Nooshin 2003, 249 & 262). Such political implications cannot be underestimated but the degree to which they shape musicians’ musical practices seems to be contingent on social context.
For example, Nooshin has explored how the perceived improvised nature of Iranian classical music is in fact the result of both learnt canonical repertory – the radif – and the requirement for ‘creative performance’ which led to the emphasis placed on improvisation by western scholars. Nooshin and many other leading scholars of improvisation in music offer definitions of improvisation that involve pre-learned strategies and vocabulary combined with creative and often idiosyncratic approaches to their redeployment in performance.
The most well-known example in literature on jazz is likely the work of Berliner, who described improvisation in terms of the compositional process in performance and explores improvisation in relation to features such as repertoire, group interaction and of course, pre-composition. Interaction has become a central feature in understanding improvisation in jazz, often metaphorised in terms of
6 conversation. I note here that this understanding of improvisation is strongly influenced by the social context in which jazz has been formed and the values of freedom of expression and creativity through cooperation central to jazz and African-American artistic practice. This has at times been theorised in terms of parody or talking back to Anglo-American culture through the practice of ‘signifyin(g)’ developed by Henry Louis Gates Jr. which has been extensively applied to the study of African-American jazz for example in the work of Monson (1996), Tomlinson (1991) and Coady (2011). However as a practice it often occurs within the culture of jazz musicians as a way of connecting histories through performing the work of significant musicians (See Solis 2002) and thereby asserting musical and social authenticity for contemporary musicians. In this sense, the process and the social meanings are combined: the way improvisation is used by people gives it meaning, while simultaneously the values also determine what codes govern the process’ use in performance. However it is worth noting that in the context of culturally hybrid performances, new meanings and codes of musical performance are often generated, or existing ones modified. This is of course a process that has been explored extensively in the study of the development of African-American music and literature in the 20th century, but is equally at play at both micro and macro levels in the contemporary performance practices of jazz trained musicians.
Scholarship on African-American music and its relationship to jazz, along with the concept of the Black Atlantic (Gilroy 1993) has proved a significant component of theorising contemporary improvisation practices across cultures in the United States. A significant study in this area is Jason Stanyek’s ‘Transmission of an Interculture: Pan-African Jazz and Intercultural Improvisation’ in which he discusses specific social meanings and a specific history of using improvisation as both a musical practice and discursive social one to negotiate social structure (2004). However, the specificity of this approach cannot be deployed uniformly across jazz’s broad diaspora. The idea of the improvisation of jazz trained musicians carrying such social and political power in the contemporary Australian context is not applicable. As a result, I have largely avoided following the growing use of academic analysis of improvisation as a discursive and theoretical tool removed from specific musical practices that has emerged in scholarly literature, for
7 example as seen in the work of Ajay Heble who sees improvisation as almost universally synonymous with social resistance (Heble, A., Fishclin, D., Lipsitz, G. 2013). The work of Heble, Fishclin and Lipsitz is notable because of its aspirational goals for improvisation, but we should be aware that the capacity to reflect such meaning convincingly in music emerges when music ‘reproduces, reinforce, actualise, or memorialise extant socio-cultural identities’ (Born 2000, 35-36). Distinguishing between identities that are extant and those that are in a sense identifications based on imagination and idealisation has proved a necessary position in this thesis, in order to accommodate the vastly different social and political circumstances of the performance of jazz in Australia. In terms of this thesis the local context of jazz and improvisation in Sydney has limited connection to the ideas put forward by Heble, Fishclin and Lipsitz (2013). Instead it is far more likely to be associated with greater social capital and middle class respectability, despite its minimal financial compensation and the prioritisation of individualistic expression and creativity. In addressing this problem of effectively bridging the gap between the evidence of musical and social practice and the literature that exists on cultural hybridity in jazz and improvisation I have developed my use of the term cosmopolitanism foregrounded earlier in this introduction. In doing so the argument seeks to draw out the relationship between the negotiation of identity in local musical practice and the global diaspora of jazz and world music, a relationship that can be situated as connected and yet locally and individually specific.
In examining improvisational musical practice locally with its specific musical and social identities I assume the established relativist approach to defining the term, positioning improvisation as a contextually based musical practice, similar to the approach taken up by Nettl (1998), Nooshin (2003) and others. As such I refer throughout the thesis to the musical practice of improvisation in terms of musicians’ approach, techniques and practice. Such an approach at times both consciously and unconsciously encourages a way of viewing how people improvise as linked to preparation and repertoire, learnt musical vocabulary and roles, and of course maintains an emphasis on the individual’s personal approach.
Despite this relativist approach, this thesis does deploy the term under specific conditions, preferring to distinguish between the musical process of improvisation and the social meaning that may be generated by the use of the
8 practice by people in specific contexts. My use of the term in reference to musical practice refers to the in-performance creation and manipulation of musical materials such as pitch, rhythm, timbre and dynamics. However, I recognise that what differentiates this from performance of composed material is largely determined by the degree to which it is spontaneously elicited and the degree to which this practice is appropriate in the musical context.
Thesis Structure
Chapter One discusses the core analytical frame through which I characterise the practices, processes and social identities of double bass players examined in the thesis: cosmopolitanism. It begins by surveying a variety of approaches to cosmopolitanism in the socio-cultural realm and distinguishing between developments that are more or less applicable to the specific context which I will be discussing. It settles on a definition of a specific type of cultural cosmopolitanism which draws its theoretical framework from Delanty (2006) and Appiah (2006).
I then explore how this is most overtly visible in the way that hybridity shapes musical practices and the articulation of social identities, but that hybridity and cosmopolitanism are not interchangeable. I examine the relationship between this cosmopolitan behaviour and cultural hybridity and its centrality to making meaning in contemporary musical performance that utilises improvisation. I suggest that while hybridity characterises much of the music made by contemporary jazz trained musicians and is often noted in relation to globalisation it is neither new nor specific to the context of local jazz musicians in Australia and instead its prominence in discourse reflects anxieties over what it means to perform the music.
This is followed by an exploration of my position as a researcher in Chapter Two: here I discuss the study’s relationship to the field of ethnomusicology and ethnographic methods more broadly. I argue that I occupy a position of relative sameness in relation to those I study, being a double bass player myself. I see our positions as similar but recognise the capacity for and realities of differences. I discuss the basis for my approach in relation to previous and contemporary methodological approaches that combine applied ethnographic components with
9 musical analysis in the dialogue between researcher and musicians and examine how such an approach can inform allied approaches in analytic auto-ethnography and practice based research.
In Chapter Three, beginning with a review of literature, I explore the role of social organisation and musical hierarchies in the selection and development of performance practices amongst double bassists who perform primarily as accompanists. I use the term accompanist in reference to bass players who are performing in a musical role often described by the more loaded term ‘sideman’. I have chosen this term instead because it, to a certain degree, describes what this role entails musically, focusing on the task of supporting and complementing others. I also explore the role of accompanying in relation to social structures encapsulating some of the implications of the term ‘sideman’.
I discuss the impact of hybrid musical practices on these performance practices and the place of improvisation within such practices, exploring their relationship to the social experience of working as a musician. The discussion is initially contextualised in literature on accompaniment roles in other musical styles such as North Indian music and Western classical music. It then moves to discuss the history of the jazz bass accompaniment role and its relationship to pedagogical literature and notes how bass players participating in this study associated with these ideas.
Chapter Four follows on from the previous chapter and explores the experience of fieldwork participants in the bass accompaniment role, how they learnt to accompany and the place of improvisation when supporting other players and soloing in the ensembles they are hired for. This discussion occurs in relation to both jazz and more hybrid performance contexts. I discuss how social organisation and the establishment of the bass role impact on how the bass player can improvise, and changes to this in contexts of hybrid performance, concluding that these are often embraced as an opportunity to learn and play in different ways but are also important to career prospects. It ends by examining an example of when a bass player accompanist moves into the role of leader and the effects this can have on performance practice and social position as they are now seen to straddle the two roles.
10 In Chapter Five, I build on Chapter Four by examining players who have led ensembles as their primary source of work. I introduce and contextualise the limited literature on bass players who have led ensembles in jazz and cross-cultural collaborations, including a historical survey of notable musicians inside and outside jazz. I refer to bass players who are ensemble leaders: those that are in charge of or have authority over the direction of musical ensembles; this may be organisationally, compositionally and directorially. The notion of the ensemble leader is intended to convey a heightened role in the musical hierarchy of the ensemble and in relation to this, a greater social standing. I establish how this role is confined in jazz history because of the instrument and its players’ association with the accompaniment bass role. As double bass players in leader-like roles have often drawn on traditions outside of jazz to reimagine the bass role this has meant that important developments and innovative performance practices have often been ignored. I draw on the example of Mingus’ Tijuana Moods (1962) to argue for the key role hybridity has played in developing innovative performance practices in jazz and the case of Renaud Garcia-Fons to explore the role hybridity continues to play in the work of notable bass player ensemble leaders.
Following this contextualisation of the bass player leader role and the importance of hybridity to the process of music-making in this role, Chapter Six presents a case study of my key informant Lloyd Swanton. It explores ways he has reimagined the bass using influences outside jazz: from world music and classical music. His continued interest in jazz, however, means he works in and across many styles. I argue that as a result, he has developed several innovative and noteworthy approaches to the instrument’s role and to improvisation more generally. I argue that Swanton’s behaviour and musical practices reflect cultural cosmopolitanism.
Chapter Seven presents the ways in which cultural cosmopolitanism operates in the practices of musicians in relation to notions of authenticity, taking as a case study my fieldwork with key consultant Jessica Dunn. It explores how establishing authenticity is a core way in which performance practices like improvisation are legitimised, particularly in the case of cultural hybridity. It looks at Dunn’s leadership of the Sirens Big Band, an originally all female ensemble that performs music which is primarily a hybrid of jazz and world musics. In particular, it looks at the collaboration that takes place between Sirens and ‘ūd player
11 Mohammed Youssef. The chapter examines opportunities to explore new approaches to the bass provided by performing music which crosses between jazz and Arabic musical practices. It argues that the establishment of authenticity in performance is an important aspect of asserting musical and cultural authority to perform cross-culturally through repertoire and establishing a cosmopolitan identity.
In Chapter Eight I draw together cosmopolitanism, the process of hybridity and musical practice, explicating how they are involved in altering perceptions of musical and social identity amongst local musicians involved in the fieldwork which underpins this thesis. I suggest broader implications for how jazz, improvisation, hybridity and identity might be more efficiently dealt with in the local context, arguing that the idiosyncrasies of local approaches need not be considered as a reflection of an innate Australian quality but rather a reflection of plurality in both the global flow of music and the demographic makeup of the local.
12 Chapter One
Cosmopolitanism, Hybridity and Musical Practice
1.1 Examining Cultural Cosmopolitanism and Musical Practice
In this chapter I define the nature of musical-cultural cosmopolitanism that this thesis argues characterises the musical and social practice of double bass players, and explore the important role of cultural hybridity in it. I begin with a discussion of contemporary literature on cosmopolitanism from a range of interrelated fields in the humanities and social sciences: anthropology, sociology, ethnomusicology and post-colonial studies. I consider its development as a position of critique that blurs dominant ways of structuring identity rather than a theoretical notion of universality often associated with Immanuel Kant. I then define the specific conditions of the theoretical framework of cosmopolitanism and its application in the thesis to social and musical practice. My use of cosmopolitanism in the thesis’ analysis combines: the embrace of difference (Appiah 2006, xv), the role of learning in engaging with cultural difference (Delanty 2006, 40-41), observable cultural hybridity (Regev 2013), and the role all three play in the ‘problematization and pluralization’ of the ways in which identities are understood, transforming individuals’ perspectives and the culture they produce (Delanty 2006, 40-41). In the following section I suggest that cosmopolitanism should be distinguished from the phenomena of globalisation and the associated increased pace of cultural hybridity that contextualises it, and placed in the domain of individual and group practices in positions of shared locality and affinity. I argue that although cultural hybridity is a necessary and observable trait of cosmopolitanism and globalisation, it is not new, and cosmopolitanism requires particular practices or behaviours in an individual’s musical work and social practice to be present. The approach of bass players discussed in this thesis is overwhelmingly characterised by an embrace of difference put into practice by learning about other cultures in a significant way. Such an approach affects changes to, at the least, personal musical practice, and often group social and musical practice; a process of cultural production which often necessitates re-examination of existing concepts of identity and musical meaning.
13 I then explore existing perspectives on the relationship between hybrid musical practice and musical meaning, starting with prominent debates over world music and world beat and their social and political ramifications. Following this I look at how hybridity has been dealt with in the trend of intercultural musical practice globally and locally. I contextualise with reference to its growing trend amongst improvising musicians from jazz, Hindustani music and Carnatic music, exploring how this social and musical interaction impacts the articulation of the music’s meaning in recent studies. The chapter then goes on to discuss the presence of hybridity in jazz with particular reference to Stross’ (1999) theory of the cultural ‘hybridity cycle’, asserting it as a way to view the historical narrative of jazz and undertand the way in which its musical practices have been represented. I examine jazz’s well-known hybrid beginnings and seeming coalescence around a recognisable body of musical practices; followed by the subsequent and/or simultaneous diffusion, which characterises the understanding of jazz as a hybrid musical practice in the contemporary. Finally, the chapter addresses the study of this hybridity in the local context, and attempts that have been made to theorise and control the practice and social meanings of jazz and improvisation locally.
Scholarship on cosmopolitanism since the 1990s has seen a proliferation of perspectives and emerged as an interdisciplinary field, taking in philosophy, the creative arts, anthropology and sociology. These fields have impacted on ethnomusicology, and theories of cosmopolitanism have been used to describe the way musicians act socially and create musically. Theories of cosmopolitanism are used in a range of scholarship to characterise the behaviours and practices of people and groups. At times they are also used to characterise larger social and political structures as is often the case in sociology. This thesis defines cosmopolitanism in the study of individuals and small groups as the combination of the behaviour of peoples who seek out cultural interaction because they see value in difference and in the acceptance of difference discussed by Appiah (2006, xv). However, such people or groups must also reflect this in their rhetoric, behaviours and production of creative works. In the musical context such works are often seen as culturally hybrid when juxtaposed to seemingly natural or solid categories of organised cultures and their products.
14 In the last two decades’ Kantian notions of cosmopolitanism as universal world citizenship and a world state have been heavily critiqued within anthropology, sociology, literary studies, philosophy and ethnomusicology. While Kant had envisaged the nation state as one of the key ways in which different ethnic groups would remain organised (Hedrick 2008, 249-250), it is notable that contemporary understandings of cosmopolitanism are often used to argue for the need to eschew the nation state category in constructing identities and human experience (Delanty 2006 & 2011, Beck 2011 & 2012, Pollock et al 2002). Certainly various tenets of Kant’s calls for a world state remain, particularly in attempts to understand large scale organisation of people across the globe as demonstrated by Appadurai’s theorisation of the way that nation state borders are increasingly porous to the flow of money, goods, culture and people (Appadurai 1996 & Delanty 2006 and Beck 2011). However, the definition of the term cosmopolitanism in contemporary usage seems to represent different mechanisms of political and social organisation from the ideas of a world state and world citizenship.
In the arts and humanities cosmopolitanism is often understood in terms of the behaviour of the individual as opposed to larger social and political structures. Anthropologist Ulf Hannerz’s characterisation of what cosmopolitans do is of particular relevance given that it is couched in terms of interaction and socio- cultural practice linked to individuals. Hannerz sees cosmopolitanism as partly a rhetorical or attitudinal concept, describing it as ‘a perspective, a state of mind – a mode of managing meaning’ (1990, 238). While Hannerz’s work is partly hinged on the difference between the local and the cosmopolitan as individuals, in part to address and maintain difference and represent the inequitable experience of world culture demonstrated by Appaduarai (2000 & 1996), he is still alert to the increasing ambiguity of cultural boundaries. Most significantly Hannerz uses the active individual human component of behaviours and perspectives in defining cosmopolitan, and thus differentiates it from a social monolith of global or ‘world culture’ (1990, 237). Hannerz argues that ‘cosmopolitans want to immerse themselves in other cultures’ and are often thought of ‘as people of independent (even modest means), for whom openness to new experiences is a vocation, or people who can take along their work more or less where it please them’ (1990,
15 241-243). He also sees this as a transnational practice whereby individuals, often intellectuals ‘keep track of what is happening in various places’ and travel to engage with their colleagues (1990, 244) and argues that some transnational cultures may have a kind of built-in relationship to that type of openness and striving toward mastery’ of both their own and others’ cultural practices (1990, 246). This ‘striving towards mastery’ is a position which I will later demonstrate applies to the culture and in particular educational enculturation of jazz musicians, to the extent that it is almost mandatory for jazz musicians all around the globe to achieve a certain level of mastery in the style yet develop their own approach.
Cosmopolitans in Hannerz’s framework strive to achieve social and cultural competence but do not become locals, instead they simulate ‘local knowledge’ (1990, 247). To the same extent they are also slightly ‘unusual’ at home, ‘one of us yet not quite one of us’ because of their interest and mastery of other cultures. Cosmopolitans can also serve a didactic function, bringing the cosmopolitan to the local, which also presents the danger of exploitation and trivialisation in certain circumstances (Hannerz 1990, 248). However increasingly the cultural diversity associated with cosmopolitanism may already be in residence in the local and in fact cosmopolitanism cannot exist without local cultural practices (1990, 249). The amalgamation of the seemingly contradictory positions of individual and group differentiation along with recognition of some commonality of existence is essential to contemporary understandings of cosmopolitanism. As such it is notable that while Hannerz does not wish to fully break down the local-cosmopolitan dichotomy, according to Werbner in Hannerz recent work, he is open to the blurring of these boundaries (2006, 497).
Contemporary scepticism about utopian ideas like Kant’s ‘perpetual peace’ can be seen in reactions to the experience of a globalising world with violence and exclusion. Arjun Appadurai’s exploration of the process of ‘Decosmopolitanisation’ in Mumbai and responses of hatred and violence in a religiously and ethnically diverse metropolis poses questions about whether any form of world state could create a peaceful outcome. He argues that globalisation has led in many cases to inequality in such localities, rendering them ‘the site of various uncertainties about citizenship’ national and global (2002, 54-55). Instead, the age old preoccupation with who belongs and who does not, and who controls physical and technological
16 spaces continue as reminders of the ways in which globalisation is ‘cracked and refracted’ (2000, 54), or perhaps the way in which its totalising, technological and superficial guises have obscured the historical continuities of inequality through their apparent progress. In fact, many of the mechanisms that seem to bring about contemporary cosmopolitan experience are supported by the nation state such as technology and free trade, which some argue can result in violence and inequality, as evidenced in Appadurai’s work on communal or sectarian violence (2002).
Such inequalities contextualise the interdisciplinary move to define cosmopolitanism in terms of differentiated experience rather than overarching social categories and processes. A core example of this is Pollock, Bhabha, Breckenridge and Chakrabarty who in their collaboratively edited volume discuss cosmopolitanism in terms of diverse experiences and speak of ‘infinite ways of being’ in asserting the need for interdisciplinary study (2002, 12). The interdisciplinary nature of the group’s writing covers history, literature and anthropology and the authors interact with both the theory and practice of cosmopolitanism. The edited volume encourages a move beyond sociological and philosophical categorisation to recognition of the distinct experiences had by people as a result of forces like colonialism and globalisation. This is a factor partly reflected in the use of qualifying terms proceeding cosmopolitanism that seem to abound, including vernacular cosmopolitanism, grounded cosmopolitanism, and variations thereof. What defines the practice of vernacular cosmopolitanism remains ambiguous and certainly seems to refer to a structural trend in cultural production in which cultural hybridity is embraced in the articulation and rearticulation of identities of local cultures, affinity cultures and categorisation such as the nation state in response to socio-political circumstances.
One such example of articulating different types of local variations of cosmopolitanism is Max Richter’s adaptation of Appiah’s concept of ‘rooted cosmopolitanism’ (1997) to ‘grounded cosmopolitanism’ to discuss how local Indonesian authorities have adopted a culturally hybrid approach to the planning of musical-cultural performances at official functions to structure identities and gain a foothold in how the local political circumstances unfold in relation to interaction with global events (2006, 196-200). Homi Bhabha’s concept of vernacular cosmopolitanism has had an enduring effect on how the concept of
17 cosmopolitanism is perceived in the field and is often thought to refer to the cosmopolitanisms of those on the margins of social structures (Bhabha 1994 & Werbner 2006, 497-498). Pnina Werbner has noted that vernacular cosmopolitanism functions as ‘an oxymoron that joins contradictory notions of local specificity and universal enlightenment,’ and ‘is at the crux of current debates on cosmopolitanism’ (2006, 496). This is an important concept in that it distinguishes the notion of cosmopolitanism from the idea of globalisation by closing the ‘cosmopolitan-local distinction’ that has been used in sociological and anthropological scholarship (Hannerz 1990, 238) and demonstrates how far the conception of cosmopolitanism has moved from the Kantian idea.
Categorical and processual perspectives remain significant to our understanding of the cosmopolitan individual as they situate differentiated experiences within the events that affect them and have effect. Sheldon Pollock’s argument provides a longitudinal historical perspective from which to understand Bhabha’s vernacular cosmopolitanism as both a discursive literary practice used by marginalised authors and as cultural processes which occur in different contexts with different results, revealing that vernacularisation and cosmopolitanism often coincide but do not necessarily work to the same aim. Pollock has offered some of the ways in which cosmopolitanism’s relationship to the vernacular can be understood in relation to Roman and Sanskrit history (2002). Both Roman and Sanskritic cosmopolitanisms, Pollock argues, were subsequently followed by periods of vernacularisation of language, states (nationalism), often linking people to place and other establishments of particular, new and finitely bordered cultural products (2002, 22-46).
Cosmopolitanism can therefore be seen not just as an expansionary cultural process, but as a way of processing the movement, transference and combination of cultural practices from different sources. This is of course an anachronistic perspective to take, and the extent to which these expansionary movements should be seen as cosmopolitan is somewhat questionable. Nonetheless what Pollock suggests is that the processes of creating cultural products in vernacular ways involves a type of syncreticism that ‘resists-through-appropriation’ in deploying culture in different ways from originally intended (Pollock, 2002, 47). This is significant in that over this expansive temporal window vernacularisation and
18 cosmopolitan practice are not seen as inhabiting opposite cultural domains even if they occupy different historical periods. In framing the thinking in this thesis’ positioning on cosmopolitanism, Pollock’s work offers a way to view the local and the cosmopolitan together. This contrasts to what Werbner has described as the ‘contradictory notions of local specificity and universal enlightenment’ that characterise vernacular cosmopolitanism by dealing with them together as part of the same history of cultural flows (2006, 496).
Clues to the nature of vernacular cosmopolitanism may appear in the way that Bhabha discusses the interaction of colonial cultures with the language of the British empire, English, and his resolve that the location of culture exists in the ‘in- between spaces’ created as cultures interact emphasising the necessity of cultural hybridity to cosmopolitanism (1994). Of course this practice is not cosmopolitan in and of itself but this kind of hybridity is part of what characterises creative works produced by those who are opposed to essentialism. Bhabha’s position has been attributed to a kind of elite position in society (Knowles 2007, 7) and certainly the anthropological work of Hannerz (1990) suggests that those in positions of wealth, or other types of privilege are much more likely to be cosmopolitan. It is my thinking that it is an over-simplification to see cosmopolitan rhetoric and practices as the domain of the wealthy or definitively excluded from the experience of itinerant workers: in fact these cosmopolitanisms may challenge cosmopolitanism’s connection to the superficial consumption of ethnically diverse food and music. Certainly to accuse Bhabha of misrepresenting the experience of marginalised communities in his engagement with fiction produced by post-colonial writers seems paltry. It does, however, highlight the capacity for those who are cosmopolitan to occupy a mixture of sameness and difference from those they interact with face-to-face and through media.
Bhabha’s (1994) literary criticism has provided important insight into how post-colonial cosmopolitanism intersects with the creative arts and cultural products. Bhabha’s theorisation and analysis of the post-colonial and cosmopolitan interactions in literary texts illuminates the position of the ‘other’ inside the west and the multiple consciousness this causes amongst subaltern people. The way that Bhabha situates the creation of artistic products in this context is in the often cited ‘in-between spaces’ where established cultural boundaries are fluid and the origins
19 multiple (Bhabha 1994, 2). It is in these spaces that identities are articulated and people practise cultures as hybrid and evolving entities, which is in opposition to the notion of culture as discreetly belonging to and of the origins of one particular group. This distinction is notable for its intersection with Appadurai’s concern over the noun ‘culture’ and ‘its implication that culture is some kind of object, thing or substance, whether physical or metaphysical’, and that it implies a bordering of groups based on biology (1996, 12). According to Appadurai the noun ‘culture’ and its associations act ‘in ways that conceal more than they reveal, ‘cultural’ the adjective moves into a realm of differences, contrasts and comparisons that is more helpful’ (1996, 12). Certainly this is a problem that is not limited to exploring the creation of cultural products on the margins, ‘in-between spaces’ and the practice of cosmopolitans. However, Appadurai does not want to give the term culture away, instead he proposes a redefinition of culture as a ‘phenomena, a dimension that attends to situated and embodied difference’ and cultural as ‘only those differences that either express or, set the groundwork for, the mobilization of group identities’ (1996, 13). By situating culture and the cultural in terms of both process and contingency there is sufficient capacity for seemingly traditional and even primordial cultural practices to exist alongside the hybrid, new and innovative seen to be created by cultural encounter. The seeming contradictions of Bhabha and his colleague’s definitions allows for the concept of cosmopolitanism and its qualifying derivatives - grounded, vernacular, rooted, - to be speculative and anachronistic. The consistency of the use of ‘cosmopolitanism’ to attenuate ‘grounded’, ‘rooted’ and ‘vernacular’ identities, emphasises the common bonds cosmopolitans recognise while also valuing cultural difference, which is a potential antidote to the structural issues of contemporary society, a tool for managing conflict and for the marginalised to navigate the ambiguities of global culture with recourse to a voice. Certainly this is as much a rhetorical practice as well as a scholarly attempt to demonstrate the diversity of experiences (often outside western norms) and their common bonds.
An important component of the difficult task of distinguishing cosmopolitanism from globalisation and its acceleration of cultural hybridity is the reframing of notions of culture and cultural processes. According to the sociologist Gerald Delanty, to define cosmopolitanism in a critical fashion we need to situate
20 our understanding of the term in a context of cultural encounter rather than the bounded notion of ‘culture’ that Appadurai is concerned with (2011, 652). In this context Appadurai’s theorisation of flows can be helpfully interpolated with Delanty’s cultural encounters to cover the gamut of cultural interactions. Delanty positions interaction and cultural hybridity as central to the way in which people define their identity, which echoes Brian Stross’s earlier application of cultural hybridity in anthropology (1999). While Delanty situates cultural encounter in the period of modernity, Stross’ theory normalises hybridity as a cultural process and asserts that ‘all things are of necessity hybrid,’ including culture (1999, 266). This process occurs in what he has termed the ‘“hybridity cycle,” in which a hybrid form transforms itself into a “pure” form prior to helping generate another hybrid’ (1999, 255). Stross was not concerned with cosmopolitanism but links can be drawn to Delanty’s scholarship of sociological cosmopolitanism which has a similar interest in the role of cultural encounters and diversity. Stross’ (1999) work provides a strong theoretical foundation on which to place Delanty’s views on the merits of ‘cultural cosmopolitanism’ (2006, 35). By further distinguishing the discussion of cosmopolitanism from grounds of tradition and hybridity, and removing hybridity’s contextual dependence on modernity and globalisation, it is possible to formulate a view of cosmopolitanism as a distinct practice and yet still recognise how these phenomena contextualise its study. Delanty becomes fairly direct in asserting his position on what constitutes cosmopolitanism:
Cosmopolitanism does not arise merely in situations of cultural diversity or taking perspective of the other. It is not an identity as such that can be contrasted, with national identity or other kinds of identity, except in a restricted sense of the term…Moreover, as used here, cosmopolitanism does not simply refer to cases or situations that are called by those involved in them cosmopolitan, although this dimension of cosmopolitan self- description is by no means irrelevant; the critical aspect of cosmopolitanism concerns the internal transformation of social and cultural phenomena through problematization and pluralization. It is in the interplay of self, other and world that cosmopolitan processes come into play. Without a learning process, that is an internal cognitive transformation, it makes little sense in calling something cosmopolitan (2006, 40-41). What distinguishes Delanty’s definition from others is the emphasis that is placed on the process of learning as a keystone in identifying cosmopolitan practice. In this way it places the idea of cosmopolitanism beyond its hybrid cultural products and situates it as an approach which is predicated on the understanding and comprehension of difference, which is more nuanced than the notion of appreciating or desiring difference. While Delanty’s definition reflects the relatively individual
21 and subjective interactions between people, in the ‘macro or societal level of the interaction of societies’ and the ‘historical level of modernity’ his application is generally to much larger structures such as the European Union and the capacities for cosmopolitanism or the cosmopolitan to deal with situations of global conflict (2006, 40-41). His definition and its interdisciplinary utility is interesting in that it differentiates itself from one of the key sociological thinkers on cosmopolitanism, Ulrich Beck, by acknowledging the role of the individual in a theoretical lens that draws attention to the global.1 Like Delanty, anthropology and ethnomusicology are concerned with what he terms the ‘micro level of identities, movements and communities within the social world’ in understanding cosmopolitanism (2006, 41). This creates a space where lived experience, the rhetoric and behaviours of people are the object of study, and cosmopolitanism is implicated in identity negotiation.
Delanty’s sociological critique of cosmopolitanism and his definition are of great assistance to the study of cosmopolitan musical cultural practice. However to deal with cosmopolitanism on this micro-level, philosophical and anthropological thinking about what it means to be and to act as a cosmopolitan needs to be incorporated. Kwame Antohony Appiah’s philosophical exploration of the cosmopolitanism practices and beliefs of people emanates from from discussions in post-colonial studies (2006). He argues we have ‘obligations that stretch beyond those to whom we are related by the ties of kith and kind, or even the formal ties of a shared citizenship’ (2006, xv). However, not everyone shares this view, and Appiah sees a tension between attempts to assert a universality of experience and the embrace of difference, which he argues is central to contemporary cosmopolitanism. To support this argument Appiah discusses attempts of religious fundamentalists to spread their faith yet an unwillingness to discuss this faith or
1 Beck alternatively argues for a complete distinction between ‘cosmopolitanism in a normative philosophical sense and cosmopolitization’ as an empirical category of social science research to group people (2011, 1347). In this view cosmopolitanism is a subjective and untestable experience, his category cosmopolitization is remarkably similar to globalisation and it seems to be designed for use in dealing with macro-societal structures particularly the flow of social and political interaction beyond the nation state based on ideas of world citizenship and openness. Ironically for people these things must be experienced at the level of the individual cosmopolitanism as a practice is dependent on interactions between people on the most micro-levels, otherwise the global aspect and aspiration of cosmopolitan theorisation and experience is merely an abstraction. Further cosmopolitization alarmingly removes agency imposing the category and arguing that we are linked in this way by ‘global risk’ such as terrorism and nuclear conflict in a somewhat doomsday scenario where we must devise this ‘new kind of community and a new kind of politics’ as a solution, which seems decidedly at odds with definitions of cosmopolitanism (2011, 1353).
22 enter into dialogue with those with different practices and beliefs. He offers the examples of the Spanish Conquistadors and what Oliver Roy has called ‘‘radical neofundamentalists’ – who want to turn jihad, interpreted as literal warfare against the West, into the sixth pillar of Islam (Appiah 2006, 140). But Appiah is at pains to point out that this neo-fundamentalist stance is at odds with the majority of Muslim lives including that of the Prophet Muhammed that are grounded in cosmopolitan interactions with other faiths. Rather Appiah argues that ‘People are different, the cosmopolitan knows this, and there is much to learn from our differences’ (Appiah 2006, xv). The way Appiah develops the idea of cosmopolitan ethics is again interested in the relationship between self and other and navigating differences. For Appiah cosmopolitanism is not a form of cultural status to be exalted, it is contingent on ‘habits of coexistence’ or ‘conversation’ bound up in cultural encounter. This opens up a context in which the behaviours/practices and rhetoric used in interaction which characterise cosmopolitanism shape the way cultural hybridity is engaged with (Appiah 2006). Bloechl has discussed how Appiah’s interest in representing social difference is particularly pertinent because his cosmopolitanism insists on moral priorities that preserve ‘individual dignity and autonomy’ (Bloechl & Lowe 2015, 38) in order for cultural diversity to be a source of ‘human agency’ (Appiah 2006, 268). However, he also recognises that such diversity has the capacity to ‘constrain’ assertions of agency (Appiah 2006, 268 & Bloechl & Lowe 2015, 38).
1.2 Establishing the relationship of cosmopolitanism and cultural hybridity in musical practice
Cosmopolitanism has been increasingly applied to the study of musical practices in ethnomusicology and popular music studies. Motti Regev’s Pop-Rock Music: Aesthetic Cosmopolitanism in Late Modernity (2013) is an attempt in the study of music to apply theories of cosmopolitanism. However, the route taken by Regev poses some problems for the study of musical and social practice in that it favours a view of cosmopolitanism that focuses on the structural components of social organisation such as the nation state rather than the individual. He draws from Beck and Snaizder’s ‘methodological cosmopolitanism’ that was to replace
23 ‘methodological nationalism’ in sociology, grouping people over borders by affinities in a global culture as opposed to within nations (2006). Beck, whose more recent work was discussed earlier, again proposes cosmopolitanism as a category, suggesting it is a process of hybridisation and remarkably similar to globalisation (Beck & Snaizder 2006 & Beck 2011). Indeed Regev’s discussion reveals as much: ‘Hybridity, creolization, complexity, mixture, fusion, and deterritorialisation are key concepts in the approaches that stress multidirectional flows and networks’ (2013, 7) and Regev is right to refer to them in that they certainly contextualise our contemporary understanding of cosmopolitanism. But his argument that ‘methodological cosmopolitanism as a concept translates to aesthetic cosmopolitanism as a concept that best reflects the existing global cultural reality of late modernity’ makes all hybridity cosmopolitanism. It also avoids recognition of the history of hybridity as a cultural practice prior to modernity (2013, 7).
Stross’ definition of cultural hybridity demonstrates that hybridity is in fact one of the core process of all cultural development. Stross’ theorisation of cultural hybridity as a cycle situates global cultural practices outside unilateral and all pervasive globalised flows (1999). Instead Stross proposes a process of hybrid cultural practice in which the interaction of different cultural traditions creates hybrids that are then refined into traditions and coalesced into a known entity such as a style of musical performance, before undergoing further hybridisation (1999, 265-266). As a result hybridity can be viewed as a constantly occurring aspect of cultural practice and is a necessary component of establishing traditions. In this context categories of traditional cultures, nations and ethnicities are not as clear and hybridity is not seen as new to experience. Certainly Regev’s argument does not bear up to world music’s history of cultural encounter and hybridity and the enduring impacts of this on how we understand musical culture. This is exemplified in Philip V. Bohlman’s discussion of the city of Cluj in World Music: A Very Short Introduction (2002): because of Cluj’s different influences under successive occupations and its position as a cross road on the silk road, cultural practice there is thought to be cosmopolitan; the street musicians here perform recognisably world music but also traditional music. In part they are made cosmopolitan by the way in which they select their music and perform to earn a living while negotiating complex interrelations between the city’s occupants who have different national and
24 cultural backgrounds (2002, 131-136). Here hybridity is both new and old and the cosmopolitan flavour is not just due to the cultural hybridity but the way it is peacefully negotiated with deference to difference in the musicians’ behaviour.
Cultural hybridity should not be conflated with cosmopolitanism: to argue that a taste for cultural products from another nation or ethnicity is a display of aesthetic cosmopolitanism overreaches, totalising all culturally hybrid practice as cosmopolitanism when it is not always the case. Regev is, however, correct in that the aesthetic markers of cosmopolitanism are mostly found in culturally hybrid productions of music, but individual behaviour and rhetoric must not be discounted nor the reality and practice of theft in developing culturally hybrid music. While some propensity to openness may currently exist in the structural and collective levels of societal organisation there is also ample evidence of barriers, especially when we are time and again evidenced with attempts by nations of excluding the other and bordering themselves more tightly. Instead I propose that we situate cosmopolitanism in the discussion of music anew as culturally hybrid and innovative musical performance, but with the caveat that Delanty argues for where it is accompanied by rhetoric and behaviour that is cosmopolitan. In doing so we can utlise Delanty’s ‘cultural cosmopolitanism’ as a way of understanding how learning about cultures and the embrace of difference stimulates the ‘problematization and pluralization’ of understanding, which leads to the transformation of identities with such behaviours and attitudes at their core (Delanty 2006, 35-41) while still developing the capacity of ‘human agency’ (Appiah 2006, 268).
While this has not always been the view of ethnomusicologists writing about cosmopolitanism, and explicit definitions in this context remain scarce, it is possible to situate key recent texts as precedents to this definition. The most significant example is Steven Feld’s exploration of jazz cosmopolitanism which is defined broadly and primarily influenced by the interdisciplinary perspectives of Appiah (2006), Bhabha, Appadurai, Brekenrdige and others (2002) and sees cosmopolitanism as an approach to interactions where the individuals and parties are interested in accepting or embracing difference in response to musical styles from other origins, in this case jazz. Feld’s exploration of cosmopolitanism is not essentialised and allows for discrepancies in how and why culture is articulated
25 based on location, class, (perhaps gender although this line of analysis is not played out), histories, education, religion and/ or spirituality in and through people (Feld 2012). While intersubjective similarities may exist, difference in and among communities is integral to the hybrid approach in Feld’s discussion of jazz cosmopolitanism in Accra, Ghana. This jazz cosmopolitanism is underscored by broader histories of cultural interaction between coloniser and colonised, migrant and aboriginal in Ghana but played out in the contemporary.
The cosmopolitanism I am proposing is a potential reading of Feld’s text which looks at how the musicians Feld studies respond to cultural hybridity and how in doing so their identities and musical approaches are transformed. The text seems to suggest that this specific type of cosmopolitanism requires openness in human interaction, cultural hybridity, and the centrality of continual learning of new information encountered through life experience and mediated cultural products like recordings. The transformative encounter here with music, both live performance and mediated, is significant because it is a feature of jazz’s cultural practice and exemplifies a particular approach to music-making which is cosmopolitan. The centrality of learning is particularly important here as it is one of the primary factors that forms both improvisational musical practice and a cosmopolitan approach. Jazz musicians’ learning about musical practices often occurs in relation to what is seen as new material at least to the musician, making cosmopolitanism a factor that should reasonably be considered when studying a musician’s approach, the role of hybridity in it and the socio-cultural meanings of contemporary improvisation.
Theoretical and practical perspectives on hybrid musical creativity and articulating socio-cultural identity
As discussed earlier, cosmopolitanism can be defined as the embrace of difference, the primacy of learning about cultural practices to the point that it is transformative and the use of this learning to problematise and pluralise identities, which subsequently changes the cultural landscape. In musical practice one of the core ways in which cosmopolitanism is reflected and understood is hybrid aesthetics. However, this in itself is not sufficient to deem the music as cosmopolitan and needs to be accompanied by behaviours and rhetoric in keeping with the above
26 definition. Hybrid music-making has been a component of the study of cross- cultural and intercultural performance contexts including those considered inside and outside jazz, many of which could be considered cosmopolitan. This scholarship has developed around the study of world music: consideration of both its commercial variants World Beat and World Music and the academic subject ‘world music’ which Nettl outlined (1978) help us to contextualise conditions of cosmopolitan music-making. Much of the scholarship builds on initial debates about cross-cultural practices and hybridity in the emergence of the World Music category in record production and marketing as well as discussion of globalisation and the circulation of people and cultural products which it has been associated with. Both Frith (1991) and Feld (2000) have outlined the initial rationale for marketing music outside Western popular music genres and classical music as world music for commercial gain in the UK and its subsequent spread.
Cultural hybridity in World Beat and popular world music performances has been associated with consuming the ‘exotic’ other without meaningful cultural engagement: a prospect which has concerned post-colonial theorists such as Said (1978), Bhabha (1994) and Appadurai (1996) and ethnomusicologists such as Feld (2000) and Stokes (2004). There have, however, been perspectives which see the potential for hybrid musical-cultural practices, at times facilitated by recording technology to articulate and rejuvenate traditional and formative identities in world music (Nettl 1978, Manuel 1993). One such example is Peter Manuel’s exploration of the responses to forces such as modernity and globalisation in distributing music and shaping aesthetic taste in regard to popular music in India (1993).
Two foundational issues are at stake in these debates: firstly the ability of musicians on the margins of the Western music industry to control the use of their music once it has been recorded and the structural barriers to this; secondly, the agency of musicians on the margins of the Western music industry in collaborating with Western musicians involved in the recording industry. The first group are thought to be participants in cross-cultural musical practices that are textually or materially based through their interaction with recorded forms of music. Feld and Erlmann have critiqued cross-cultural processes for the ability to take away agency over sound and for exploiting traditional and minority cultures through the dislocation of sound from its cultural and physical environment (Erlmann 1988 &
27 Feld 1996 & 2000). Feld has highlighted several cases in which the musical knowledge and material of an indigenous culture outside the West has been appropriated into the performances and recordings of western musicians (1994, 1996, 2000).2
Veit Erlmann paints a seemingly negative scenario in which all world music production subsumes identities. Erlmann’s theoretical argument has been that far from being liberated, music cultures have been colonised by cultural imperialism and the flows of capital that are part of globalisation and world music exemplifies this (1996). Erlmann has asserted that World Music is an ever broadening phenomenon characterised by synthesis as its core aesthetic value, a value adopted in order to reflect a ‘global ecumene’ that contradicts the tenets of post-colonialism and allows the West to reimagine itself by being associated with otherness (1996, 468-470). For Erlmann the assertion of cultural identity represented by the performing of music with regional and local foundations has been subsumed and co-opted by ‘Western consumer culture and cultural imperialism’, and musical diversity homogenised for economic purposes (1996, 469). While Erlmann’s critique is problematic in that it sees World Music and the modern music economy as part of a totalising force, what is of greater concern is that its dogmatic view of how capital operates in a globalised world excludes perspectives from outside the west (1996, 470). By situating all musical and cultural events as entirely global and subsumed by capitalism it becomes difficult to see how these forms of cultural production play out in specific contexts and the meaning of musical products is lost.
While there is little doubt that the mutual cannibalisation of sameness and difference Erlmann refers to can occur in contexts of musical hybridity, a notion concurrent with Feld (1996, 478), Erlmann’s work assumes that these forces are systemically operating on music without any countervailing motivations for creating cultural products (Erlmann 1996). From this perspective the musician and the consumer have no agency, no power, no motivation to eschew systems of
2 See Feld (1994, 1996 & 2000) for a more in depth analysis of how schizophonia’s many flow on effects can manifest. Feld establishes the notion of Schizophonia coined by Murray Schaefer: the disconnection of a sound from its source and has explored the well-known cases of appropriation of ‘Rorogwela’ by Deep Forest (2000) and Mbuti by Herbie Hancock and implications when the ownership structures of western copyright exclude the claims of traditional ownership (1994). These are dark examples but nonetheless a reality; the Rorogwela lullaby for instance was of immense social significance to its performers but its use as a sample is primarily tied to its aesthetic appeal as exotic and other.
28 production that provide financial compensation; they are reliant on western institutions, and local and regional issues are rendered insignificant. However, musical hybridity in the context of cross-cultural performance also has the capacity to assert identities and reshape them in ways that are not necessarily totalised as part of the global flow of capital in specific circumstances. The democratising effects of technology such as the internet can be seen to have some effects similar to widely available technology for the recording and distribution of taped music that Peter Manuel discusses in popular music consumption in India (1993).
The term ‘cross-cultural is often used interchangeably by musicians with terms such as ‘intercultural’ when describing their collaborations with musicians from a seemingly distinct musical culture. The context of performance collaborations can be seen more clearly as intercultural because of the development of a tangible interculture through rehearsal and performance. Intercultural in this context is usually thought to describe face-to-face musical practices, transferring of sounds, performance practices and musical structures: most often over a sustained time frame that would allow an ‘interculture’ to develop. It is often thought to be evident because of perceived proficiency in musical and social communication and the use of different cultures’ musical codes by both groups in the same performance context (Stanyek 2004, 118). Both of these practices can be seen as part of Stross’ hybridity cycle as practitioners of perceived traditions interact to create hybrid cultural forms before these are eventually codified into some sort of whole through the establishment of core identifying practices (1999, 255). Therefore, these can be seen as some of the ways that the cultural products of hybrid music-making can be identified by the relative in-between-ness of the context and the amalgam of musical practices.
Despite the possibility of inequity in face-to-face collaboration, intercultural interaction is generally conceived of in more positive terms as an emancipatory and beneficial process for musicians’ agency. However longer-term collaborations characterised as intercultural between musicians are also subject to different results. Intercultural musical practices are also situated as wider sociological and historical phenomena which traverse national borders. Sociologist Paul Gilroy’s The Black Atlantic (1993) discusses intercultural interaction in terms of the development of a shared cultural vernacular, a complex process in which creating something new
29 routinely appropriates: this has implications for the way we understand the resultant forms, such as reggae, jazz and hip hop. This demonstrates that complex and violent histories of slavery, segregation and movement that characterised the treatment of people in European colonies in Africa and the forced migration to Europe, the Americas and Carribean, continue to shape the macro-historical understanding of contemporary jazz performance. Gilroy argues that these populations have continued to interact, sharing among other things musical forms with a common vernacular and his development of the concept is often drawn into the critical examination of the relationship between the social and musical in the discussion of jazz. In response to the concept of authenticity and black music Gilroy suggests that the ‘syncretic complexity of black expressive cultures alone supplies powerful reasons for resisting the idea that an untouched, pristine Africanity resides insides these forms’, ameliorating ideas of primitivism and singularity in the characterisation of African America musics’ cultural origins (1993, 101). Instead he suggests the ‘breaks and interruptions’ of fixed identities reveal the way that tradition may be invoked in response to the ‘destabilising flux of the post- contemporary world’ and to tie together social formations for particular purposes (Gilroy 1993, 101). Gilroy is concerned with attempts to flatten out difference and attempts to affirm coherent as opposed to heterogenous racial identities in the ‘black political imaginary’ (Gilroy 2000, 356). He asserts that important conceptions of humanity and identity as universals can silence traditions of democratic representation and cosmopolitan practice (Gilroy 2000, 356). Instead he calls for a vision of political culture based on a new ‘planetary humanism’, which in the future would replace ‘antiracism’ by removing ‘the idea of race in the interest of a heterocultural, postanthropological, and cosmopolitan yet-to-come’ (Gilroy 2000, 334 & 356).
Particularly pertinent to this study is the nature of intercultural and cross- cultural interaction amongst musical improvisers. Commentators have tended to see this positively and primarily as artistic and distinct from entertainment; instead serving to articulate and negotiate minority identities into a beneficial musical and social position (Stanyek 2004). Examining the improvisation that results from these cross-cultural and intercultural performance contexts is an area of scholarship that has gained momentum in the last two decades, and coincides with increased
30 examination of hybridity in jazz performance contexts. Jason Stanyek draws on Gilroy in his discussion of the social history of Pan-African Jazz arguing that one of the most important ways pan-African identities in the U.S have been negotiated is through intercultural improvisation in hybrid global musical spaces (2004, 93- 106). His exploration looks at the social implications of improvisation which developed out of the interaction between jazz and Latin American musicians, a notable early example being Gillespie and Chano Pozo’s ‘Cubana be, Cubana bop’ (2004, 106). Stanyek argues that intercultural improvisation has a capacity to articulate African-American identities in the U.S. in terms of collectivity and difference. Stanyek’s deployment of the term ‘intercultural improvisation’ is based on Mark Slobin’s (1993) theorisation of affinity culture wherein people with similar interests or background form a network of trade and performance opportunities.
Stanyek’s idea of ‘intercultural improvisation’ is defined by the negotiation of musical and social spaces through improvisation. It would not be unreasonable to see this as a useful mode of understanding musical interaction between musicians from different musical and/or social backgrounds. This may be particularly so in the United States where the social meanings of jazz improvisation are often linked to ideas of liberation and freedom of expression through a kind of Afro-American modernism, perceived in the practices and discourse of bebop (Lewis 2004, 133- 135). However, there is a need to resist recklessly positive assumptions about the effect of these improvised Pan-African interactions and highlight the specific contextual circumstances to understand the relationship between the musical and the social without conflating them. Jerome Camal has pointed out that the way in which Pan-African intercultural interaction and for that matter all intercultural interaction occurs is not always a positive negotiation of identity and can perpetuate exploitation of those with less access and power in the Western music industries (2015).3 It is important to consider that the processes of intercultural interaction and improvisation may not necessarily configure identities in this way and can also be used socially to reinforce and restrict. One such example is Guy Warren’s experience of performing jazz in America and the resistance to the Ghanaian
3 Camal explores the way in which American saxophonist David Murray has worked with local Gwoka musicians in Guadeloupe and has been critical of viewing transcultural music-making in an overwhelmingly positive light. He instead proposes a more critical viewpoint which can reveal inequalities, pointing to the inequitable results of the collaboration between Murray and local musicians (2012, 174-177).
31 rhythms he wished to introduce to performances (Feld 2012, 61-62). This acts as a reminder that while hybrid musical performances using cross-cultural and intercultural processes in their development may be features of cosmopolitanism, they are only part of the equation Delanty puts forward (2006). The characteristics that Stanyek ascribes exclusively to intercultural Pan-African culture via Paul Robeson’s discussion of African culture, are the principles of ‘human friendship and service to the community’ (2004): this is similar to Appiah’s conception of cosmopolitanism (2006).
The perspective on intercultural improvisation Stanyek investigates is significant but is strongly shaped by the contextual and discursive factors surrounding jazz; particularly bebop and Latin-jazz hybrids that have emerged. Those such as Gillespie involved in Latin-jazz and bebop collaborations, regardless of their political or social inclinations sought to establish a place in American society for the practice of bebop and jazz as an art form which confounded the primitivist myth4 surrounding jazz’s early development (Porter 1999, Monson 1995). In this context the social semiotics of the practice of improvisation as free and democratic and its historical association with jazz musicians helps to assert a modern, intelligent and agentic image of African-American identity. This can be seen as a result of the way in which sound is given its meaning by deployment in specific social and political situations and this meaning is not static (Blacking 1995, 35-360). The nature and structure of these musical practices, however, may be quite different from their social meaning. When improvisation is used in the intercultural context that Stanyek discusses the music created serves a positive function helping to reshape perceptions of subjugated peoples. However, it is ultimately the way in which intercultural interaction was used by the musicians involved which determines how the intercultural improvisation and the musical results are perceived.
The practice based perspectives of dual scholar-performers on the relationship between hybrid musical performance and improvisation in cross- cultural and intercultural contexts connects to the emphasis Stanyek places on the social interactions of improvisers. McNeil’s analysis of separate collaborations
4 Ted Gioia (1989) explores of the use of primitivism to explain the skill of African America musicians performing jazz and its representation by historians and the media (1989).
32 between Hindustani musicians and contemporary blues guitarists, and an Egyptian ‘ud player, presents a practical view of what approaches can be successful in collaborating: he theorises these in terms of musical interaction as a conversation or dialogue (2007, 6-9). In doing so McNeil presents a model for improvising with musicians from different cultures based on a combination of: musical aesthetic considerations, the ethical terms of the musicians’ interactions, and the social meanings that these generate, which is in turn based on the situation of the music in its context (2007, 12). Central to the model McNeil demonstrates is a willingness to maintain the integrity of the ‘source music’ while creating something new. This acknowledges not only the politics of musical performance but also the need to negotiate them via the practice of music itself in order to create some form of cohesion in the music performed (2007, 20). Intercultural interactions in this view are not just a sociological or cultural site to be theorised but also one that needs to be directly engaged and shaped by participants to formulate value beyond entertainment. This sort of result is important to the musicians involved as the music created becomes an integral part of their identity. This somewhat reorients theoretical perspectives of cross-cultural music to the practicalities and idiosyncrasies of the context of musical performance.
Michael Dessen, in his exploration of jazz saxophonist Steve Coleman’s group Mystic Rhythm Society and its collaboration with Cuban group AfroCuba de Mantazis, reveals that intercultural improvisation rather than being a performance context without musical codes is a place where cultural traditions are brought ‘into dialogue and, in doing so, interrogate[s] and transform[s] them’ (2004, 182). He uses this approach to ‘heterogeneity and difference’ to argue against Erlman’s totalising concept of world music hybridity, offering that ‘rather than fall on either side of the ‘referentiality – post-referentality’ divide that Erlmann implies, they call this binary into question’ (2004, 187). The use of hybrid musical practices and the cultural interaction that Dessen discusses in this performance context are reminiscent of Delanty’s view of cosmopolitanism in that they are combined with attempts to ‘problematize’ and ‘pluralize’ the way we understand culture and identity through the musicians’ capacity to embrace difference through learning.
Toby Wren’s auto-ethnographic examination of collaborating is far more circumspect, focusing on the specific musical identities and intersubjectivities
33 which develop as a result of intercultural music-making. ‘Intercultural music making’ for Wren is a category, a process which is observable in the work of musicians, with a more limited capacity for generating explicit social meaning. The resulting musical hybridity Wren argues, is ‘a natural consequence of musicians’ desire to extend their practice through interactions with the musical Other they encounter’ (2014, 115). While the extent to which this disposition is natural is questionable it could certainly be argued that the systems of musical learning in jazz and Carnatic music that encourage mastery and individual contribution to performance pre-dispose musicians who perform these musics to engaging meaningfully with musics outside their initial training. This quality is demonstrated thoroughly in Wren’s account of his Ultimate Cows project with Guru Kaaraikudi Mani and Ghatam Vaidyanathan Suresh. The desire and capacity of the musicians to converse with each other using elements of each other’s musical language and the long term educational and collaborative work of the participant positions this hybrid performance context in a way that we might comfortably view as cosmopolitan.
In Matthew Noone’s auto-ethnographic exploration of adopting and performing Indian classical music while studying in India he develops a model for understanding his musical practice with the notion of the inverted term ‘mongrel’. This is theorised based on his practice and his own identity as an Anglo-Australian sarod performer in traditional and fusion or world music performance contexts and draws together many of the aforementioned characteristics of musical hybridity. Many of the mongrel’s attributes have already been established as cosmopolitan practices, such as the embrace of difference, the learning of other cultures’ practices and his application of Melrose’s problematising ‘meta-critical practice’ combined with the importance of self-reflection (2016, 8-10). Noone, again drawing on Melrose concludes by arguing that,
If we propose that musicians are processing the complexity of postmodern cultural hybrid selves through the creation of hybrid musical works, then we need a music-making, human- focused response to the issues involved in world musics. It is possible that mongrelity, both as an embodied “meta-critical practice”. (2016, 15) and phenomenological perspective, may offer new insights in ethnomusicology’s attempt to engage with the increasingly complex artistic practices of individual musicians in our interconnected global reality.
Noone’s perspective illuminates the implications of hybridity for the self- identification of musicians and the greater number of subject positions present. It
34 also reflects his cultural background in using an Australian colloquial term that inverts the negative implications of mongrel breeding. In the Australian context the term mongrel is often used as praise, usually of sportspeople for displays of tenacity, ruggedness, strength and quick wittedness in the field of play. Noone is both inside and outside the traditions of Indian classical music; he has learned its musical and social practices but also reflects other cultures in his origins and approaches. This is a cosmopolitan identity and his so-called ‘mongrelity’ reflects the ambiguity of his position but also his active nature in shaping it.
Jazz and Stross’ cultural hybridity cycle
Brian Stross’s conceptual development of the idea of the hybridity cycle is a metaphor adapted from biological study which situates hybridity as a process central to all cultures (1999, 254). The concept of the hybridity cycle refers to a cycle in which cultural forms move from being considered a hybrid because of the identification of multiple ‘purebred parents’ to being considered pure following ‘naming’ and ‘refinement proccesses’. At this time they take on conventions, and are made ‘more homogenous’ and therefore more legitimate, before being involved in the creation of another hybrid (1999, 265). Stross’s anthro-linguistic background is evident in his application here in which there is a ‘naming of the hybrid’ and the primacy of discourse in understanding cultural forms. Such context may serve to explain Stross’ use of naming and discourse in framing analogies to musics like jazz when such processes are not entirely adequate for describing the hybid nature of jazz (1999, 265). Narrative discourse is essential to understanding broader conceptions and recognition of what jazz is and the societal legitimacy of the style (Stross 1999, 266). However, it only forms part of the way in which we understand its forms and styles: an issue of concern since the emergence of the new jazz studies in the late 1980s, which sought to address inherent inequalities in historical understandings of jazz (Deveaux 1991). The distinction between narrative discourse of development and modernity in refining aspects of jazz’s hybrid beginnings in New Orleans into the widely recognisable forms of jazz as a swing and bop based performance idiom in the 1940s and the actual practices of jazz musicians which have continually drawn on hybridity across the music’s history while
35 simultaneously drawing on and evoking tradition is an important one. Such a perspective remains of importance in the analysis of contemporary jazz and related musics in which hybridity is widely discussed as a characteristic and yet is not entirely new.
The significance of hybridity to jazz’s formation can be seen in the cultural histories undertaken by John Storm Roberts (1985) and David Ake (2002) and the interdisciplinary work of Christopher Washburne (1997 & 2001/2002), which demonstrate multiple origins of jazz’s foundation. Storm points to the Latin influence on New Orleans Jazz and the evidence that exists for this in the commentary provided by its practitioners such as Jelly Roll Morton. Storm however suggests a different vantage point from which to understand the development of jazz’s practices as inextricably linked to Afro-Cuban musical practice. Washburne’s work, drawing on cultural history, ethnographic work and musical analysis convincingly demonstrates that this connection between the rhythmic foundations of jazz and the Cuban son has both historical and musical bases (1997). Both works venture beyond conventional understandings of jazz as the result of the combination of western musical forms from the white population and the music of the African slave population in America Similarly, Ake points out the complex politics of different African identities in association with jazz in America, identities which are often conflated in attempts to assert a national African-American identity. Ake (2002) has demonstrated in his study of Creole Culture and Early New Orleans Jazz that at the very basis of jazz is a complex entanglement of syncretic musical and cultural processes, combining elements of music from what were at the time fairly divided communities of the Franco-African and the Anglo-African diaspora as well as forms of European art music (Ake 2002). Such narratives underscore the large range of musical cultures which were incorporated into jazz.
However, by viewing jazz history from the perspective of Stross’ hybridity cycle it is possible to account for some of the trends in performance practice that have dominated historical narratives of the music at different points in its past. The view of jazz as a “hybrid of hybrids”, described by Alan Lomax, establishes the music’s foundation in the culturally cosmopolitan city of New Orleans and asserts that the practices of jazz musicians at this time utilised cultural hybridity in musical performance. Such a perspective establishes that the cosmopolitan cultural context surrounding jazz musicians in cities such as New Orleans and New York is reflected in the music that they created and was subsequently transmitted across the
36 globe. Subsequent attempts to codify the music in the swing and bebop idioms can be seen to coincide with developing artistic consciousness of those performing the music, and the broader context of emancipatory and specifically African American movements. Such codification confines the bass role to its iconic walking style briefly before the music moved into a period of interpolation with Afro-Cuban and Afro-Brazilian traditions that introduced important rhythmic practices in the form of the clave and bossa nova. Of course such a view is not without its problems in that the most ardent swing and bebop musicians were also some of the most prominent adopters of the re-emerging Latin tinge towards the end of the 1940s.
By introducing Stross’ theory I am not suggesting absence of hybridity in the intervening years until Third-stream music and jazz-rock fusion as he suggests (1999, 265). Rather I am suggesting that the coalescing of particular sounds and stylistic practices in narratives about jazz that focus on the swing and bop idioms following its foundation in New Orleans have led to jazz being identified by these characteristics in popular thought. Stross’ hybridity cycle means that we can better understand why swing based jazz has developed such legitimacy, perhaps anachronistically, and draws attention to the importance of historical discourse in naming and refining what jazz is perceived to be. So called ‘traditional’ forms of jazz, usually referring to the style from New Orleans to the 1960s Miles Davis Quintet continue to be performed. In practice musicians continue to stake out ground over what constitutes a jazz performance, most notably neo-conservative figures such as Wynton Marsalis (Nicholson 2005, Shipton 2001, 877-878). Marsalis calls for authenticity in jazz, defining it as a swing based musical form with acoustic instruments and an African-American history; and pursuing the centrality of its musical and social history in the contemporary presentation of the music.
However as Gridley and Wallace have demonstrated when the musical evidence is brought into view, such definitions of jazz as an idiom with swing rhythms and bop and blues based musical improvisation rules out much of the music prominent jazz musicians played and continue to play (1984). Such issues are at play when we look at the Latin-jazz approaches of Dizzy Gillespie as Stanyek does in his discussion of ‘intercultural improvisation’ (2004). In the case of Gillespie’s much of his work with Chano Pozo doesn’t swing in the traditional sense employing riffs and vamps instead. Similarly Duke Ellington’s bands included much Latin-tinged repertoire developed with sidemen from other cultures
37 like Juan Tizol from Puerto Rico. In these cases the musical creators help to make these hybrids jazz regardless of their characteristics. However definitions of jazz in stricter terms continue to structure the way in which we understand it in relation to other musics when a new hybrid is being developed.
It is important to recognise the role of the establishment of discourse and tradition in coalescing styles and delimiting the parameters of the music. Jazz since 1960, however, has continued to utilise hybridity but more overtly partly because of discourse which questioned whether these fusions or hybrids were jazz. Writers such as Stuart Nicholson have explored the diffuse and syncretic strands of its continual development asking whether jazz was in fact dead (2005). It is notable in what Stross would have seen as the second stage of hybridity that the new musical styles are often articulated in comparison to the traditional forms which continue to be practiced, although with some variation to their initial practice. This draws attention to what Stross has described as the tendency for hybrids to be understood in terms of their parent cultures. Such a process is inherently difficult as it involves both personal perspectives and historicising in creating a narrative for musics which have a multiplicity of parents (1999, 260). The way a musician’s rhetoric positions their music as hybrid or pure is influenced by such discourse as well as the way they draw on practices.
1.3 Gender Scholarship on Jazz Performance
Gender has become an important topic of critical discourse and socio-political practice in the study of jazz performance. Following the development of the new jazz studies, scholars partly motivated by Scott Deveaux’s article ‘Constructing the Jazz Tradition’ (1991), have sought to deconstruct the dominant narrative of jazz’s development (Tucker 2012). These scholars sought to challenge the narrative of the music as moving from one style to another under the leadership of ‘great men’ and reveal other ‘approaches, analyses, voices, perspectives, and questions’ (Tucker 2012, 264 & 267). The study of women in jazz emerged alongside this movement in the new jazz studies particularly since the late 1980s and has examined the role of African American women in musical performance (Tucker 2012, 265-266). However, work on the participation of women in jazz’s formation in New Orleans was initiated earlier by scholars such as Susan Cavin (1975) (Tucker 2012, 265-
38 266). Sherrie Tucker, a leading scholar in this area of jazz studies, notes that despite the presence of this research, and its capacity for deconstructing dominant narratives, it was not widely taken up by the discipline (2012, 265). Historical perspectives on women’s participation in jazz have increased in scholarly research exploring figures such as Melba Liston (Barg, Kernodle, Spencer and Tucker 2014) and larger social movements such as women’s role in swing big bands (Tucker 2000 & McGee 2008) but form a comparatively small part of the field. The literature on all-female jazz bands has generally looked at how female jazz instrumentalists were seen more as entertainers than as serious artists in the 1920s, 30s and 40s (Tucker 1998, 2004 & McGee 2008). McGee, in her exploration of the white all-girl band the Ingenues, discusses how ‘changing conventions in variety revue and vaudeville houses’ led to the context in which all-girl bands performed. For bands like the Ingenues these performances occurred in the context of larger all- girl revues in which the all-girl band represented a form of novelty for going beyond orthodox conceptions of femininity. As such the ‘competent female instrumentalists’ were seen as desirable, leading to cultivation by producers of revues, and yet these skills where still seen as a novelty with the opportunity to perform in such revues connected to ‘their youthful and attractive appearance’ (2008, 647). The performances of the group were given acceptance because of the media’s identification of the group in line with Paul Whiteman’s perceived refinement of jazz, distancing it from what was seen at the time as the ‘dangerous association of urbane black music’ (2008, 649-650). However the group’s music was also distanced from the perceived ‘innovation and authenticity’ of their male counterparts and identified with lighter performance playing styles that the pubic was familiar with from classical and popular music (2008, 657). McGee argues that the vaudeville and variety performances that these all-girl groups were involved with, played into ‘various tropes of modern life’ including notions of racial exoticism and ‘“hot” jazz’, ‘novelty, versatility, and musical amateurism’ (2008, 655). As argued by Kernodle much of jazz history confirms these perceptions of female jazz musicians despite notable exceptions such as Mary Lou Williams and Melba Liston (Kernodle 2014). However, while this performance context does not cast the performances and work of female jazz musicians in a progressive light by contemporary standards, it is significant that McGee notes that these ‘novel talents’ and performance contexts enabled all-girl jazz ‘for the first time’ (2008, 657).
39 Scholarship on gender in jazz studies has focused on historical accounts of female musicians as performers, arrangers and composers and the perceived position of female musicians in both female and male ensembles. According to Tucker this work is predicated on addressing ‘problematic representations of race and gender in dominant discourse which [cover up and damage] much more than the history of all woman bands’ (1999, 69). The orthodoxy of canonical and male dominated perspectives in jazz histories and scholarship often links the music’s development and the experience of being a jazz musician with narratives of modernity, jazz as a progressive and innovative art form and the male jazz musician as the ‘jazz hero’ (Tucker 2012, 69) who is overwhelmingly heterosexual. This is, of course, not just restrictive of female musicians but limits the representation of subject positions in terms of both gender and sexuality. David Ake has pointed to the way that this jazz hero narrative and jazz’s social association with male sexual prowess has restricted the representation of different masculinities in performances and historical discourse taking Ornette Coleman as a case study (2002, 62-82). Such masculine discourse excludes many experiences and, as Tucker has argued, gendered analysis can offer much to address this.
Perspectives on more contemporary female performers remain limited in the study of jazz. Tucker argues that gendered assumptions about the type of music which women should play, and what the performance of different types of music says about the women performing them, persist in social interactions to varying degrees, even if the tendency is to see men and women’s musical performances as equal. In her 2004 chapter ‘Bordering on community: Improvising Women Improvising Women-in-Jazz’ Tucker demonstrates that the position of women in jazz communities in the United States remains on the borders. Women by and large receive less work and most of the public opportunities they receive are in relation to ‘women-in-jazz’ events and media which also pigeonholes their performances and shapes further opportunities, for better or worse (2004, 244-253). Tucker acknowledges that there has been changes to the position of women in terms of expectations over the sound they produce, the music they play and the instruments they play. However these developments have not translated into an increased representation of women in jazz performance alongside men, nor has social expectation of what constitutes a feminine sound been completely removed (Tucker
40 2004, 255 & 261-262). In this way gender critique can still show how jazz scenes are experienced differently even when gendered assumptions about sound and performance are ostensibly removed from the equation. Such an approach can be seen in the work of McGee who has discussed how, in the intersection of jazz and popular music in smooth jazz, gendered expectations of performers still exist (2013). McGee discusses how debates over smooth jazz’s characterisation as ‘formulaic’ and its popularity tapped into existing perceptions of ‘popular jazz as excessively sexualised and effeminate’ to delegitimise its value as part of jazz and exclude it from the canon while positioning ‘“authentic” jazz acts’ as masculine (2013, 254). Taking Dutch saxophonist Candy Dulfer who emerged in the late 1980s and early 1990s with the rise of smooth jazz as a case study, McGee demonstrates how journalistic critique of smooth jazz perpetuates associations between ‘female artistry’ and the ‘body’, and male artistry with ‘notions of the mind and intellectual freedom’ which have been both harnessed for commercial appeal and disrupted by the artist through musical performance and ‘[trangressing] gendered performativities’ in music videos (2013, 255, 273-275). McGee points to the way in which Dulfer despite being labelled as smooth jazz and part of the ‘feminized’ world of popular music by the industry, actually identifies with fusion and rock and performs a diverse range of styles perceived to have masculine authenticity (2013, 276).
As reflected by the work of these scholars, perceptions have certainly changed over time, but gender politics continues to border the spaces of musical performance both locally and globally. Limited literature documents this change, instead we are faced with a gap in ethnographic, musicological and historical research, particularly in representing the experience of locally based female musicians. This is reflected in Jessica Dunn’s own experiences discussed in Chapter Seven, which while generally reflecting increasing equity also speak to how gender access to and representation in spaces of musical performance has improved locally but is still not on par with male musicians. In such a context where male participants continue to have advantages over their female counterparts, the active shaping of different and receptive performance contexts are needed to navigate established socio-musical structures. Tucker argues that the gender politics of female performance in jazz is complicated because of a need on the one hand to
41 draw attention to the equal professionalism and artistry of female performers, but the overwhelmingly dominant view among female musicians is that they don’t wish to be pigeon-holed as a novelty nor should they feel any more musical affinity for female players over male players (Tucker 2004, 251-255). However her informants point to several instances in which performance opportunities in certain fields in local scenes exclude women despite feelings of musical connection to the style of playing, particularly in the case of experimental or free playing (Tucker 2004, 260- 251), an argument supported by Julie Dawn Smith’s account of the Feminist Improvising Group in Europe and the UK (2004, 224-243). In this politics we can see how the male dominant macro-historical discourse around jazz and improvisation and social practices of jazz continues to shape the social interactions of contemporary music-making. However for contemporary musicians like Dunn, musical performance contexts, which include more experimental compositional and improvisation practices and are more overtly hybrid, may in fact enable the assertion of more culturally assured and powerful musical identities.
Locally, similar issues to those discussed by Tucker have been observed. Louise Denson’s investigation into the Melbourne Women’s International Jazz Festival (2015, 177-179) similarly argues that contemporary female jazz musicians acknowledge the need to utilise ‘women-in-jazz’ events to find an audience for their music but also feel that it can have negative ramifications in terms of achieving their artistic goals. Furthermore they also feel these events misrepresent their experience, which is characterised by working with their male counterparts in their own ensembles (2015, 177-179). Denson’s article also reveals a slightly different dynamic in that core arbiters of taste, such as Martin Jackson CEO of the Melbourne Jazz Co-op, are involved in both this event and the larger Melbourne and Wangaratta Jazz Festivals which could possibly point to broader awareness of the need to promote female jazz musicians locally (Denson 2015, 170-171) in the face of limited placement on festival lineups (Keogh 2015, 193-195). Certainly Denson’s article argues that the Melbourne Women’s International Jazz Festival has helped establish the careers of several female jazz musicians, provided opportunities for the commissioning of new works/projects and has been a way to gain exposure to programmers at other major performance festivals (Denson 2015, 170 & 176).
42 While boundaries caused by gendering instrumental performance and sound aesthetics are not governing the contemporary practice of female jazz musicians, barriers to female performers still exist in the structural mechanisms surrounding the industry. Though still below equity, the contemporary context of jazz performance in Sydney and more broadly in Australia points to an increasing presence of female musicians in performance (Denson 2015, 180), tertiary jazz programmes and music festivals (Keogh 2015, 193-195). The efficacy of The Jann Rutherford Memorial Award and the Sydney Improvised Music Association’s Young Women in Jazz Program has seen increased advocacy and appetite for female representation in the jazz performance community, and the Young Women in Jazz Program’s expansion to Perth underscores this phenomenon. However, seemingly historical perspectives on women’s role in musical performance are still encountered as musicians engage with the broader public. Gender remains a significant issue and equality should not be seen as a desire for complete sameness; in fact, the desire to express a different and unique experience exists, a prospect which Chapter Seven will explore further.
1.4 Jazz and improvisation study in the local context
While intercultural and cross-cultural trends can be observed globally, in the context of this research, based in Sydney, these practices have increasingly characterised the way that musicians define their musical identity. Scholarly perspectives both theoretical and practical have emerged particularly in the last two decades as musicians have sought to better understand and represent what can be a seemingly ambiguous position in relation to performance and composition style. The largely practice based literature argues that there is something innovative and unique to the way that Australians play jazz and improvise (Rose 2016, McGuinness 2011, Evans 2014). Some have attempted to take up the position and continue the narratives developed by Whiteoak and Johnson that asserted the practices of Australian musicians performing jazz as a component that both shaped and is shaped by national identity and the social context of Australia (Rose 2016). It is interesting to note that attempts to address these concerns in articulating an identity and history of the music in relation to performance have continued this
43 characteristic of the cultural histories of jazz and jazz related musical performance written by Bruce Johnson (2000) and John Whiteoak (1998). Johnson’s arguments are often concerned with positioning the musicians’ practices in relation to social and political structures such as the Australian nation, local musical scenes, the Asia- Pacific and of course jazz and American musical identity. Johnson’s and Whiteoak’s discussions about identity formation in the musical and cultural practice of Australian musicians, while focused on the historical past, are also evidence of contemporary anxieties over the social meanings of jazz in Australia and Australian identity formation more broadly.
In practice based research, the socio-political aims of Johnson’s and Whiteoak’s work is often adapted to an argument which articulates the music in terms of its context of performance in Australia and traces histories of local performers and their influences on others in order to assert unique performance practice. Here is an attempt to take what is essentially a historicising of jazz practice as cultural practice in Australia, a largely discursive project undertaken by Johnson in Jazz: The Inaudible Music and Whiteoak in Playing Ad Lib. These assert identities that rethink the conception of the Australian cultural landscape and use it to establish a historical vernacular of musical performance.
In part this discussion has been updated with attempts to situate hybridity used in the combination of jazz with other musics as evidence of a distinctive local practice, which was most recently articulated by Robson in his dissertation (2015). Cultural hybridity is a trend that has emerged in both discourse and practice and which initially coincided with governmental policies of multiculturalism under the Hawke and Keating governments (1983-95). These policies encouraged, and often gave direct support through government institutions to, an inclusive approach to cultural difference in society (Moran 2017, 71). However, while this push for inclusiveness has subsequently been marginalised in political discourse, it has remained important to the social and musical practice of local musicians. The inclusive nature of hybrid musical practices can be seen as a way that the music made by local musicians prefigures a desired social and musical identity.
In this way hybrid musical practices can be seen as a way that the music made by local musicians prefigures a desired social and musical identity. They are
44 not, however, evidence of an extant Australian-ness in the music – in fact they just as much represent the problematisation and pluralisation of Australian identity. Contemporary musicians continue to emphasise both the music’s internal hybridity and the hybridity of jazz musicians who often work across musical styles. Notable examples are Sandy Evans (2014), Toby Wren (2014), Simon Barker, and Jeremy Rose (2016) all of whom examine musical hybridity in the context of Australian jazz and improvising musicians. Likewise, the capacity of improvisation to negotiate identities in hybrid performance contexts is certainly supported by the literature that examines this practice locally and globally as shown earlier in the chapter. The impact of hybrid musical practices of jazz musicians on identity and social meanings of musical performance certainly merits our attention. Contemporary practice based scholarship can be seen to borrow Born’s term, to ‘potentialise’ hybridity as part of emergent identities, although perhaps mistakenly, alongside the nation state model of identity formation (Born 2000, 35). Born’s recent work attempts deal with the ‘challenges of conceptualising how the social enters into the aesthetic operations of both music and art.’ an area which she argues has proved difficult to theorise particularly in regards to musical improvisation (2017, 34).5 The preoccupation within the field with this project demonstrates the problems in applying methodological nationalism to the relationship between musical and social identities with histories of migration and diaspora, but it does however emanate from broader social use amongst musicians. However, those represented in this thesis, upon substantive engagement, by and large saw a more contingent relationship to structures like the nation. While a large sociological survey of this dynamic was not possible in the parameters of this dissertation there is a sense in which anecdotally Australianness was invoked as an effective place holder for difference from well-known contemporary American musicians, but dwindled from view in relation to actual practice.
In distinguishing their music-making activities in Australia, jazz and improvising musicians have drawn on a range of arguments to demonstrate an idiosyncrasy in the development and performance of music; this may reveal
5 For an indepth theorisation of the issues at play in dealing with the relationship between improvisation and social aesthetics see Born, G. (2017). After Relational Aesthetics: Improvised music, the social, and (Re)Theorising the Aesthetic. In Born, G., Lewis, E. & Straw W. Ed. Improvisation and Social Aesthetics. Durham and London: Duke University Press.
45 anxieties about defining a musical identity independent from jazz’s American roots. There is a seemingly contradictory impulse to both expand the music and simultaneously confine its social meanings for local purposes. Certainly a general trend of intercultural music-making seems to exist amongst Australian musicians, but this is not more or less evident in the local context than in other urban metropolises around the world. In fact it characterises the practice of jazz and improvisation in most major international cities, whether it be Jakarta, Tokyo, Sydney or New York. The interest in this aspect of musical practice is in large part evidence of local musicians’ broad based concern in managing identity through the effect and affect of music and the interest of musician scholars such as Evans (2014b), Wren (2014) and Rose (2016) in situating themselves beyond the role of musicians as artists.
Arguments for an Australian jazz identity musically and socially have asserted that Australia’s geographic location and distance have meant a certain amount of isolation leading to individuality: a common argument which Evans has pointed out is difficult to verify (Evans 2014b, 13). Likewise, assertions that local cultural and music-making practices make it unique and the combination of these two factors with the country’s proximity to Asia has led to a disposition for intercultural music-making is a commonly held position articulated by Rose (2016, 20). However, the practice of media dissemination via radio and recording that have been central to jazz’s initial arrival in Australia and the long term and pervasive presence of American produced music on radio and screen make arguments based on isolation implausible. This is especially so, given that despite some speculation of the development of a local vernacular, attempts to codify it ultimately fall short.
However, the anxiety to assert some form of difference belonging to jazz musicians in Australia should not be simply dismissed because of it incongruence with the factual or musical data available. Rather attempts to define and assert local difference in relation to American jazz are an essential social practice of jazz musicians and scenes outside the U.S. As Berliner pointed out, a jazz musician’s authenticity and social credibility has depended on the articulation of an individual musical voice (1994, 120-121) and for those outside the U.S., claim to a position of performing to the local musical community has been predicated partly on the ability
46 to speak to locals’ desire for music that seems to reflect their locality and experience.
For most local musicians the prospect of a hybrid-jazz music with a local vernacular and by extension indigeneity is complicated by the country’s post- colonial history and plural society. Arguments such as Rose’s, that the use of Australian rock influences and intercultural collaborations have to an extent made Australian jazz indigenous are therefore best discussed in terms of a dual anxiety and problem of definition where a local vernacular rather than indigeneity is being suggested (2016). Rose is acutely aware of the fact that this vernacular cannot be codified, but is intent on putting it forward as a kind of goal or ideal for his creative practice work. Both elements of his discussion are clear indications of how post- colonial heritage continues to trouble the way in which Australian identities position themselves when in-between spaces seem to dominate the cultural domain. The gap that exists between the macro-historical and performance based perspective’s treatment of identity and between the imagined identities and the extant sociocultural practices creating the musical performance, is a significant issue which this thesis attempts to address in its treatment of the case studies. Such a gap is indicative, as Gebhardt has argued, of the ongoing debates in jazz scholarship over ‘how to account for the specific social contexts in which jazz musicians make their music’ and the ‘relevance of various social categories for evaluating musical contents and form’ (2015, 1).
There are, however, significant contributions to jazz and hybrid music-making that involve Indigenous Australians and that can make claims to reflecting indigeneity in performance that do not fall into the scope of this thesis. The most prominent example is the AAO Crossing Roper Bar Volumes 1 & 2, a project that combines traditional Yolŋu vocal practice performed by the Young Wagilak Group and accompaniment from the Australian Art Orchestra that relies on the practices and aesthetics of music by Ornette Coleman and Miles Davis from the 1970s. The impact of the project more broadly on jazz musicians’ practices has not been widespread and does not offer significant evidence of developments in the new ways that bass players make music in hybrid contexts. It is, however, significant to the arts community in that it represents a politics of reconciliation and recognition of the value of Indigenous culture to contemporary Australia that most jazz
47 musicians ascribe to.6
The thesis proposes a discursive treatment of jazz and improvisation that, in deference to the anxiety in articulating identity and musical meaning in relation to the nation, utilises cosmopolitanism’s ability to navigate nation state structures without being bound by them. Cosmopolitanism’s categorical use in sociology has suggested that it may be used as a methodological antidote to nationalism due to what Delanty calls its ‘ongoing process of self-constitution’ limiting reliance on the nation as a basic unit for understanding the hybrid nature of jazz musicians’ music- making (Delanty 2006, 40). When used qualitatively, however, rather than replace the nation as a category, it instead encourages and enables an approach which is site specific and looks at how these identities coalesce in musical and social practice. In this sense cosmopolitanism and hybridity can be seen to offer a way to frame the practices of contemporary jazz musicians from around the world that is not dependent on considerations of either genre or nationality. The use of hybridity and acceptance of difference can be viewed as a global trend amongst jazz musicians. This type of cosmopolitanism, however, because of its reliance on self-constitution in relation to others, takes on diverse iterations dependent on the social contexts of the music’s production, contexts that are not always easily codified. In this sense factors such as the nation and local social groups remain pertinent to the formation of both music practice and identity but they do not necessarily govern the relationship between musicians and music—which is a situation characteristic of cosmopolitan behaviour. This predicament is one that is reflected in the way that musicians talk about their work throughout the thesis. They are strongly aware of the nation, jazz and the history of both, but firm that their experience does not fit neatly into the world view that both these discourses put forward.
In this chapter I have defined cosmopolitanism, which I will argue characterises the musical and social practice of double bass players involved in this research, as follows: the embrace of difference, the primacy of learning about cultural practices to the point that it is transformative and the use of this knowledge to problematise and pluralise identities which subsequently change the cultural landscape. The most observable musical evidence of cosmopolitanism is a hybrid aesthetics and practice of musical performance, but these need to be accompanied by the aforementioned cosmopolitan behaviours of learning and mastery of different cultural practices. This definition emerges from an interdisciplinary field and draws on a range of literature from anthropology, philosophy, sociology, ethnomusicology and literary
6 For a more detailed discussion of the way that the Crossing Roper Bar project develops the contemporary social and musical significance of Yolŋu tradition see Curkpatrick (2013).
48 studies. This chapter also addressed the difference and relationship of cosmopolitanism to processes of globalisation and cultural hybridity arguing that cosmopolitanism is in fact a way of dealing with hybridity. In this chapter I have also addressed the applicability of using cosmopolitanism in addressing the problematic literature on local jazz and hybrid musical practice. This is a way of articulating specificity of identity that can deal with locality and difference in local musicians’ practice without resorting to totalising concepts of nation at odds with the process and practices they use.
49 Chapter Two
Researching from a position of relative sameness
2.1 Researcher position: dealing with difference, similarity and sameness
The position of the researcher in ethnomusicological and anthropological research has been noted to impact the methodological approach used, and the theorisation and research outcomes produced. The relationship between researcher and participant, researcher and area of study, and researcher and text has proved increasingly complex to theorise. Researchers have increasingly occupied social positions and identified with those they are studying and have in many cases become part of the study themselves through auto-ethnographic approaches. Due to my position as a double bass player using analytic research methods to study other double bass players with a relatively similar social background, it is pertinent to explore my position. It is also important to discuss the practical implications of this theorising which both stems from and impacts on how this research was approached methodologically. Towards the end of this chapter I will speak somewhat reflexively in order to convey the reality of the researcher position and the social interaction that unfolded. This chapter begins with a discussion of researcher position and outlines what I term a position of relative sameness: someone who conducts research on people in a similar social position and with similar cultural practices to themselves. The chapter begins by demonstrating the relevance of such an approach through a survey of ethnographic approaches which have influenced this study in the ways that they deal with sameness, or attempt to bring the position of researcher and those being researched closer together. It examines how methods of advanced performance knowledge, auto-ethnography and research in dialogue enhance researcher social position and subsequent understanding of both musical and social identity. While these theories and approaches of conducting ethnographic research have each been drawn on in this project they have not been wholly adopted. In the second part of the chapter I discuss the practical formulation and implementation of the methodology used and the issues and concerns of conducting research and analysis in this project.
Positions of sameness in research utilising ethnographic methods remained relatively undocumented until the late 1990s. At this point with developments in
50 cultural studies and particularly postcolonial studies, anthropologists and ethnomusicologists increasingly turned to study at home and to theorising the complex politics of such practices (Appadurai 1996, Ashcroft 2002, Ashcroft 2011, Bhabha 1994). As John Morton argued the reality of conducting fieldwork in one’s own backyard revealed that differences were not confined to a period in a faraway land with different people. Differences existed between people at home as well, brought to the fore by the complex relationships fieldworkers had with people who lived in the same geographical space as each other but had different experiences and different perspectives (Morton 1999). Morton’s perspective reinforced developments in anthropology as the study of ‘self-other relationships’, which is also an underlying research imperative in the use of ethnographic method in the study of music (Morton 1999, 245). This has been a significant way in which anthropology and ethnomusicology have dealt with the critiques of their methods and analysis provided by post-colonial studies (Broos 1998) and cultural studies (McEachern 1998), which focused attention on how researchers historically in privileged positions shaped the representation of those they study.
Theorisation of the researcher position at home in terms of difference while true in some respects seems to misrepresent the experience of some researchers. While a difference based approach opens up the home field of research to heterogeneity it continues nonetheless to perpetuate familiar theorisation of cultures as contained, in practice and discourse, and privilege the distanced position from which the objective researcher discusses the musical and social. This is an issue that according to Gabriel Solis (2012, 540) continues to influence ethnomusicology. Solis comments that while this has been ‘the prevailing mode of thinking in most of the second half of the twentieth century in anthropology and ethnomusicology’ it ‘has been challenged for some time’ (2012, 540). Since the 1990s perspectives of those studying what Chou Cheiner describes as ‘their own culture’ (2002, 458) have emerged. However, studying one’s ‘own culture’ has proved difficult to define, particularly in contemporary urban environments such as the locus for Cheiner’s work in Taiwan. Her research investigates Nanguan musical performance, a type of music from Fujian province in the South of China, which has spread throughout the diaspora. The music uses ‘mainly a vocal repertory accompanied by instruments’ (Tsang Houei 2017), and is ‘an amateur ensemble music’ for personal entertainment
51 and some temple rituals (Cheiner 2002, 458). Cheiner began learning Nanguan prior to taking up studies in ethnomusicology and returned home to study the music as an ethnomusicologist. In the perspective Cheiner develops, studying ‘their own culture’ revolves around an affinity culture where participants are bound by acculturation in the musical-cultural practices of the Nanguan. The group in which she participates is in fact formed from a variety of social, ethnic and national backgrounds and Cheiner emphasises the diversity of age, education and personal behaviour in practicing Nanguan that runs counter to homogeneity.
There are, however, specific terms on which a researcher can be considerd to be researching ‘their own culture’. Cheiner deems common ethnicity as not sufficient as evidenced in her critique of Rulan Chao Pian’s ‘Return of the Native Ethnomusicologist’ (1992). In this article Pian discusses returning to China to conduct research but on a tradition that he has not been involved with prior to ethnomusicological study and was not associated with as a cultural insider (Cheiner 2002 & Pian 1992). Thus Pian largely remains an outsider in his fieldwork experience as he has not previously acquired a certain level of musical and social competency in the culture. To be truly a native or insider means requires researchers who ‘are themselves already experienced musicians within the tradition that they subsequently investigate ethnomusicologically’ (2002, 457).
Such theorisation of the level of sameness between researcher and participants and has helped in establishing my own position undertaking research with other jazz bass players. Although I am of similar musical background and interests to my research participants there are differences of ethnicity, gender and nationality. Instead the researcher and those researched are linked by an affinity for a similar area of musical performance in a similar social and historical context. As a result I propose the terminology of relative sameness has efficacy because of its capacity to deal with temporality and process in the researcher’s interactions with participants in situations of some heterogeneity.
Previous performance based learning in this context is a significant component of establishing the researcher’s position as an insider. But rather than being distinct from previous participant observation practice in ethnomusicology it is connected to the centrality of this practice in learning about cultures. As a result it
52 draws attention to the nature of this research methodology, which is itself bound up in the transition to musical and social competency and when analysed has the capacity to enable deepened understandings. Despite already being an insider, Cheiner is no more comfortable with her position when she begins researching than an outside ethnomusicologist; however the dialogue with participants over appropriate behaviour is already open and subject to far less formality (Cheiner 2002, 467). Cheiner remarks ‘Whatever the exact cause or causes, my overlapping identities as researcher and musician were clearly fluid and beyond my own complete control in these fieldwork situations’ (2002, 478). This is a state which allowed Cheiner to ask questions that would be expected of a researcher but could not be asked as a student, and conversely to ask questions that were informed by a long term experience and understanding of the music being performed and could understand emic answers (Cheiner 2002, 472). Despite being an insider concerns with mediating between the different stages of inclusion in the group remain: from being a beginner Nanguan performer to achieving seniority and perceived expertise (2002, 458). In addition, researchers such as Cheiner must also deal with the dual roles of musician and researcher that are nuanced, subject to change and not entirely in their control.
The underlying premise of Cheiner’s discussion suggests that those with a level of inside or native social proficiency can gain further insight into the tradition that leads to musical proficiency and that this position aids in investigation and subsequent explanation. This is generally true of my own research experience; it is easier for musicians to discuss issues of performance when some understanding already exists and they feel that the questions and line of investigation is part of regular discussion and therefore sensitive to their concerns as a practicing double bass player. There is also a reflexive concern for the insider or researcher in a position of sameness in that what the researcher says about the musician’s perspectives and practices may have direct bearing on the researcher and the subject’s musical and social life. Like Cheiner, I am conscious of my part in the mediation of tradition and practices in both academic and musical spheres that are central to my past and future (2002, 474).
A position of relative sameness can also be theorised in the context of hybridity discussed in Chapter One. Marwin Kraidy in ‘The Global, the local, and
53 the hybrid: A Native Ethnography of Glocalization’ establishes hybridity as an important characteristic of native ethnographies and the experiences they represent. Rather than argue that nativeness is entirely formed by grounding in the internal space of local tradition, Kraidy states that ‘locality is inevitably a hybrid space’ (1999, 457) and that native ethnographers have the capacity of native ethnography to show that ‘hybridity is not a contradiction but its quotidian, inevitable, systematic condition’ (1999, 462). It is important to note that the hybrid position Kraidy proposes would no doubt alter the nature of the relationship between the native researcher and the local population being studied, and the extent to which ‘native’ characterises this role may misrepresent the way in which the researcher position can be understood. We must also be aware that cultural hybridity has always been an aspect of ethnomusicological research, often characterised by the experience and idea of cultural encounter but not always consciously theorised as such. As a person born and raised in the same locality, Beirut, with control of local language idioms, Kraidy can be seen as relatively the same as those he studies; however, his overseas education and the research motivation for engaging his participants can also be seen to change his relationship to the local.
Theorising researcher sameness also benefits from developments in auto- ethnography, which locates the field of research in self-reflexive understanding about what people say and do. Although my work is not auto-ethnographic in that I am not in any way a ‘subject’ of the research, the positioning of the researcher in these studies offers an insight into contexts in which sameness is used as an advantage to reveal knowledge that is otherwise difficult to access. Much auto- ethnographic work studying music is evocative auto-ethnography, for example the work of Bridie-Leigh Bartleet (2009 and others), in that it privileges the illumination of the musicians’ practices using personal, self-reflexive story-telling akin to life writing. Bartleet, Carolyn Ellis and Arthur P. Bochner (2006), Norman Denzin (2006) and others have argued this contributes a unique viewpoint that puts forward ontological experiences, which often go unheard. This evocative form of ethnography has been effective in establishing a voice in the study of music; however, its application to an analytical use of ethnographic methods is limited.
Discussion over the presence of dialogue in ethnographic methods and ethnographic texts is not new to native positions or auto-ethnography, and has
54 grown to occupy a significant proportion of the fields of anthropology and ethnomusicology. Claims of inherent emphasis on dialogue and the representation of otherwise unheard voices in auto-ethnography should therefore be received cautiously and are perhaps overstated in order to demonstrate its position as innovative in comparison to the notion of the ethnographer’s interpretative lens through the method of ‘thick description’ outlined by Clifford Geertz (1988, 1-24, & 1973, 316-318). Claims of auto-ethnography’s capacity for constructing dialogue can certainly be no stronger or weaker than those that argue that ethnography’s collaborative nature has meant it has often been involved in dialogue and been dialogical in the development of its writing (Lassiter 2005, 84).
However, personal experience can enhance already established empirical forms of social science study as suggested by Leon Anderson’s model of analytic autoethnography (2006). Anderson refers to these researchers as complete member researchers (CMR) and suggests two types: the ‘opportunist’ who is already involved and turns to study and the ‘convert’ who through study decides to become a member of the group and writes about this in a self-reflexive manner (2006, 379). The extent to which a researcher or even a normal participant in a group can be viewed as a complete member is problematic to assess and Anderson’s definition of the role is more nuanced than the term suggests.
A better heuristic image is probably that of a member of the group who is considered a legitimate participant in the group’s conversations (and activities) through which (potentially multiple and contradictory) first-order constructs are developed, contested, and sustained. If this is the case, then the autoethnographer is someone who helps to form and reform the constructs that she or her studies. The autoethnographer is a more analytic and self-conscious participant in the conversation and activities. But the autoethnographer’s understandings, both as a member and as a researcher, emerge not from detached discovery but from engaged dialogue (2006, 381-382). Anderson argues that the researcher therefore ‘has another cultural identity and goals that lead to a secondary orientation’ in their participation in the group (2006, 380). While the researcher may ostensibly be the same or inside the group there are aspects of the research process/methodology that differentiate them from other participants. This is not just embodied ontological understanding. It is also scientific and the CMR much like Cheiner’s native researcher has a stake in both the practices and representation of the community (2006, 380-383).
55 The commonalities in Cheiner and Anderson’s concepts are noteworthy, yet the terminology, native and insider, used to name their approaches seems to hamper their utility because they actually refer to much more complex definitions of social position. As a result, we should be careful of assignations like insider and native ethnographer because they may suggest a relationship to the community being studied, which is staked out by a more complicated agenda. The centrality of dialogue with the group and the implication of the researcher in the shaping of practices in the work of the auto-ethnographer are capacities that also exist in critical ethnographic contexts when the researcher occupies a position of close similarity to their participants. In certain instances the capacity for self-reflexive engagement with one’s own practices can also help to develop dialogue and enhance the depth of the research process in elucidating the embedded politics and practices of the community. Certainly reflexivity about researcher position would benefit from more relative language rather than dichotomies of inside/outside and native/foreign at home and in the field. As a result, theorising position and fieldwork relationships in terms of relative sameness and difference in the sense of a continuum could be beneficial to our understanding.
The continuing centrality of dialogue to researcher position and approach
It is worth noting that critical ethnographic perspectives in anthropology and ethno- musicology particularly since the 1980s have encouraged a methodological approach that favours dialogue well before the emergence of collaborative ethnography and auto-ethnography. It is significant that despite speaking from a relative position of sameness ethnographic researchers in this position are still concerned with the representation of others’ experience with clarity and depth. In the case of critical ethnographers in a position of sameness, the representation and understanding of internal difference within communities has provided a substantial contribution to research that had otherwise been viewed homogenously (Cheiner 2002). These developments in the understanding of researcher positions intertwined in the existence of the people being researched have been influential in shaping my methodological approach. Similarly, previous approaches which emphasised dialogue and sought to address issues within the fields surrounding the dominance
56 of the author’s voice and absence of the research participants’ voices have helped shape this text (Feld 1987 & Tedlock 1986).
The move towards a more dialogical method theorized using Bakhtin occurred amongst anthropologists and ethnomusicologists increasingly concerned with representing the voices of their consultants alongside their own (Clifford 1988, Feld 1987, Nettl 2005 & Tedlock 1986). This methodological development in the study of music and the people who play it coincided with self-reflection on methodology brought on by an increase in fieldwork at ‘home’, drawing attention to the complex ways in which fieldworker and research participants perceive each other. This debate in anthropology has been summarised by Dennis Tedlock’s article ‘The Analogical Tradition and the Emergence of a Dialogical Approach’ (1986) which argued for the inclusion of the participant’s voice in the presentation of research and was followed in ethnomusicology by Steven Feld (1987) who argued that this should be a continual process in which the participants respond to the presentation of the research, editing and questioning what and how people and issues are represented in the text (1987).
Dialogue has always been a part of ethnographic fieldwork to some extent, though the writing that follows did not necessarily reflect it, and much ethnographic writing prior to Tedlock left space for research participants to speak (Tedlock 1986). ‘Analogical anthropology’ and ‘analogical discourse’, Tedlock’s (1986, 389) terminology for the prioritisation of observations and conclusions drawn by the fieldworker, had previously been prioritised by Geertz and other leaders in the field of anthropology, but was now giving way to research practices which prioritised dialogue (1988). In this sense as in my research, observations are mediated by conversation and interaction, with participants helping to prioritise issues and prevent misconceptions. This next layer of data gathered then leads to further reflection in analytical writing processes and return trips to the field of research, which in turn impacts the nature of the dialogue. However, these aspirations cannot always be fulfilled; in reality there is no guarantee of dialogue with all participants. Therefore such research methods proceed on the premise that we attempt to engage in dialogue with others, rather than position ourselves at arm’s length to them – a principle in keeping with the approaches favoured by insider researchers.
57 However, the process of research using dialogue can also be dialogical in the sense of Bakhtin’s application of the term to representation. Dialogical theory developed by Bakhtin refers to the process in which engagement with one text is stimulated by engagement with others causing the meaning of writing and reading a text to develop in relation to its reference to other texts (Bakhtin 1981). The development of ‘dialogic editing’ in Feld’s research refers to the way his research participants respond to his writing about them and how they tease out different significance from particular events, which subsequently influences the development of Feld’s understanding and writing (1987, 191).
At their most basic, dialogical approaches seem to insist that the positions of representation between consultant and author are self-conscious in fieldwork and writing. Of course this can continue to the extent that the fieldwork participants’ voices are presented without critical engagement such as in Qureshi’s Master Musicians of India: Hereditary Sarangi Players Speak 7 (2007). While concepts of collaboration are important, the position of dialogical collaboration discussed by Steven Feld seems alert to the fact that the situation is not devoid of tensions, and textual representation is ultimately in Feld’s hands (1987, 203). The way in which Feld as the author and the Kaluli research participants speak to each other and then subsequently speak about the written representations of their collective experiences reflects that there are differences in interpretation of events that emerge and will not necessarily be resolved by a dialogical process (Feld 1987, 203). However incorporating the fieldwork participants’ voice in the text as part of a mode of discourse which is dialogical can and has been deployed in the process of writing (Tedlock 1986, 397). Its potential advantages as a method relies on ongoing dialogue to build on and develop understanding of the data that has already been gathered and while acknowledging the place of the author in shaping the text, Feld’s analysis continues the dialogue with the participants in reference to the ethnographic text. This scenario of can offer a partial safeguard against misrepresentation.
The “dialogical” dimension here implicates what Kaluli and I say to, about, with, and through each other; with developing a juxtaposition of Kaluli voices and my own. My focus on “editing” invokes a concern with authoritative representation; the power to control which
7 Also see Walker (2009) for a more detailed critique of the text’s approach to representing the perspectives of hereditary Sarangi players.
58 voices talk when, how much, in what order, in what language. “Dialogical editing,” then, is the impact of Kaluli voices on what I tell you about them in my voice; how their take on my take on them requires reframing and refocusing my account. (Feld 1987, 191) In this example, in the way that Bakhtin argues that the author relates to other authors, and other texts that they relate to each other, Feld and the Kaluli argue with, agree with, interrogate, parodically exaggerate, represent and refashion each other’s language: all of which reminds us that neither is neutral in this relationship (1987, 201). As much as Geertz’s analogical approach is problematic, regardless of dialogical or collaborative approaches, the author’s perspective continues to shape understanding and representation through the written medium.
The greater prominence of those incorporating dialogue as a mode of research in a somewhat relative position of sameness mean that Tedlock and Feld’s engagement with how the discipline’s core methodological frameworks can further engage with participants remain of contemporary relevance. The goals they put forward for ethnographic research are applicable regardless of researcher position; enhancing the critical ethnographer either outside or inside and those auto- ethnographers taking analytical approaches by encouraging a more rigorous academic and ethical environment.
These issues are also mediated by language and communication, for example Feld’s more recent work in Accra, Ghana shows that a dialogical method is enhanced by the abilities of the consultant to understand and communicate in the discourses in which Feld writes (Feld 2012). Feld is able to explore the idea of cosmopolitanism with one of his key consultants Nii Noy Ortney because the latter has become comfortable conversing about western social and musical concepts from studying and working in the U.K. Not that this means that useful perspectives about cosmopolitanism do not come from his other consultants, they do, but these are more analogical in nature, filtered through Feld’s observations and analysis (2012, 52-86). Alternatively some participants like Ghanaba (Guy Warren) tightly control the representation of themselves in the dialogue and as a result the ethnographic text (2012, 52-86). To this end it is necessary to recognise that not all research participants can or wish to play a role like Nii Noi Ortney: this is dependent on the relationship that develops during the research. Like Feld’s, the way interactions occur with my participants over musical and social issues varies,
59 and discussion of them needs to be sensitive to the comfort and interests of the musician, but maintain some level of analysis on the researcher’s part.
Collaborative ethnography has adopted many of the practices that Feld uses as part of a more structured approach in anthropology that is used to encourage public relevance in research practices and representation (Lassiter 2005). Lassiter defines the approach ‘as the collaboration of researchers and subjects in the production of ethnographic texts, both fieldwork and writing’ (2005, 84). The aim of this research is to be mutually beneficial working as ‘equal partners’ towards a ‘common goal’ in advocating for local communities in the wider public domain (2005, 83-84 & 96-97). Certainly including participants’ voices is integral to contemporary ethnographic practices and has a long history in anthropology, as Lassiter notes (2005, 85). However the extent to which collaboration in the writing process can be evidenced is of some concern, as is the question of how can we effectively measure such an aim and ensure full equity in the process of research and representation. In reality this seems somewhat idealised. Lassiter’s overriding and perhaps more realistic conclusion that ‘the time is ripe for us to develop the potential for writing texts that speak even more directly to our consultants’ concerns – concerns that are no doubt global in their interconnectedness to a wider political economy but … community based’ (2005, 97).
My own approach draws on elements of all the approaches that I have outlined in the first half of this chapter. It is my hope that the thesis in some way reflects this, especially as many of my participants’ concerns are also my own. In this way internal knowledge and relative positions of sameness can be viewed as having the capacity to contribute to the representation of local concerns with a reference to the global context, provided that the analytical lens is maintained to effectively communicate these concerns into wider academic and public debates. Much of the effectiveness of researchers in a relative position of sameness in being practical and dialogical is aided by their capacity to communicate in local discourses. However it is even further increased when participants are somewhat conversant in the topic of research and academic discourses that the fieldworker uses to analyse the data he or she gatherers.
60 Getting inside musical performance / Getting into dialogues about musical performance
A position of sameness as a proficient performer can have practical benefits related to expertise and access in ethnomusicological research. John Baily calls for ethnomusicology to ‘place a stronger emphasis on learning to perform to an advanced level of proficiency’ in the musics researchers learn in the field (Baily 2008 117-120). This goes beyond superficial knowledge and mimesis of performance practice to embodied and epistemological knowledge of how what is played intersects with the role, structures and functions of the music. Baily draws on Mantle Hood’s concept of bimusicality, and the use of performance based learning by John Blacking to illustrate the history of performance as a research method and support his argument that it should be one of the foundational research methods of the discipline (2008, 117-121). Baily notes that despite the belief of leading figures like Hood and Blacking in the centrality of this approach, and its impact on the position of the researcher allowing them to gather emic information, they did not seek to master performance. Instead Baily suggests that ethnomusicologists make performance in the musics that they learn in the field part of their life and that this has the potential to enhance academic understanding of the musical-cultural practices they study. Baily posits that this sort of fieldwork position as a performer and student establishes the researcher’s social status and identity, which gives them access to experiences and knowledge that would not be possible if they were not a performer in the style they are investigating (Baily 2008). Although Baily is ostensibly an outsider to the Afghan musical community, achieving proficiency offers the possibility of some sort of insider knowledge via the experience of performance of the music being studied. Baily points to his position as a musician learning the dutar and rubab in allowing him to be involved in social events and giving him ‘an understandable role and status in the community’ (2008,125). This role, however, is far from the identity that we associate with the concept of the insider, but does allow Baily to achieve some form of experiential inclusion in the community and go beyond being an outsider.
Mastery of an instrument and performance may also aide in mediating between the roles of insider and outsider. Timothy Rice (1997) sees the effects of learning to perform as going beyond establishing an understandable identity and
61 providing a way to gather information. Learning to perform on the Bulgarian gaida both in the field and at home on his own, with the information he collected, mirrored the learning trajectory of a native student (Rice 1997, 109). This mediated the gap between Rice’s initial identity as an outsider researcher and an insider perspective. Rice comments, ‘When I finally solved the mystery of the bagpiper’s fingers, I did so in dialogue with Kostadin’s tradition of playing, preserved in recordings, after my conversations with him had ended’ (1997, 110). This shows that experiential knowledge of mastery and performance goes beyond the role of external observer to embodying elements of cultural behaviour (1997, 109-112). Rice argues that this moved him into a gap in ethnomusicological theory in-between the ‘insider-outsider distinction’ via the mastery of musical practice and acculturation in the traditions of the Gaida (Rice 1997, 110) .
After talking to a cultural insider, which took me in the direction of an emic understanding of the tradition but not all the way there, I confronted the tradition directly as a sound form and kinaesthetic activity, and made it my own in an act of appropriation that transformed me, myself, into something I hadn’t been before, a person capable of playing in this tradition with at least minimal competence. This transformation did not, however make me into a cultural insider; I was not, at least it seemed to me, a Bulgarian. (Rice 1997, 110)
The learning process, practice and performance in the tradition allowed Rice to go beyond an outsider’s etic understanding, and gave him some of the experience and understanding that a cultural insider would have. Rice gained an understandable role as he was able to exhibit sufficient cultural and musical behaviour to appear Bulgarian and be treated as such by the community despite Rice’s own concern that he was not Bulgarian (1997, 111-112). Rice suggests that ‘categories of insider may not be particularly helpful terms to describe the kind of dialogic relationships in language, music, and dance that develop between people who perform and appreciate traditions they have made their own to varying degrees.’ (1997, 112). Indeed Slobin’s (1993) theorisation of ‘affinity cultures’ and the normalisation of musical-cultural hybridity suggest that terms like native and the insider/outsider dichotomy in understanding cultures is of limited utility in ethnomusicologists’ theorising of the musical and social spheres. But they continue to influence how researchers position themselves despite the work of Cheiner, Baily, Rice and others. In part this is because of the discipline’s concern to avoid ethical dilemmas arising from the privileged position of the researcher in relation to marginalised communities. This power dynamic is significantly reduced when studying in areas
62 where one belongs, often heightened by the personal nature of the experience there. However the politics of social relations remains a practical consideration at the forefront of the ethics we use in undertaking our research.
However the theorising of a position of similarity through acculturation and shared performance capacity could be seen as an opportunity to review ethnomusicologists’ identities via a more nuanced understanding of how we relate to those we undertake fieldwork with, beyond an insider-outsider dichotomy. In this sense I propose that we think of the researcher as always capable of some level of inside understanding, some level of sameness when taking the position of a musical performer regardless of their ethnic background. In terms of my own study, on the face of it I share a similar ethnic background to my participants who have Anglo- Celtic descendent, but also some difference in that many have other European ancestry, whereas I do not, and some such as Waldo Garrido, come from South America. However most importantly for this study much of our shared cultural identity surrounds an affinity for jazz and the musical practice of improvisation. Being native in this situation is not really relevant and reflects enduring social science methodologies in grouping people around state based geographies and their links to ethnicities. As such my level of sameness or my insider position can be seen as contingent on the contextual and perceptual nature of how I am positioning myself in relation to the field.
2.2 Research design and the realities of fieldwork
As has been discussed, how participants and researcher understand their respective identities and roles in the research and the terms of their relationship can affect the extent to which the research process can be a dialogue and the writing can be dialogic. Nettl (2005) and Monson (1996) have recounted circumstances in which consultants or prospective consultants shut down dialogue or refuse to enter into it. Monson in particular encountered resistance when attempting to get Cecil McBee to comment on the practices used in a recording he played on: McBee seemed to find it mildly insulting, telling her ‘he knew the tune’ (Monson 1996, 19). As a result Monson mentions that when musicians did not seem to enjoy or be interested in the questions or recording examples she attempted to shift the dialogue where possible to topics on which they were more interested. It is important to remember that jazz
63 and jazz related performers while existing in a widely circulated music are also part of a musical community, which guards its practices, depending on the status and perception of the fieldworker. Nettl (2005) points out that positions like student or former student are more understandable in cultures unfamiliar with the practices of ethnomusicologists while being a researcher can be regarded with suspicion or as unbeneficial to social standing in some circumstances. Monson recognises that there are limitations to this dialogue in formal interview due to the need to remain positive to create or reflect social cohesion and safeguard their work in the jazz community (1996, 20).
The power relations that effect this research are different, however, in terms of the relationship of academia to the musicians being researched and my own position in relation to the musicians. Most of the musicians involved have some sort of involvement with the tertiary education sector via teaching, workshops and in some cases their own research projects, and are not daunted by my position as a researcher. My personal cultural, social and educational background has many parallels with those I undertake research into and this leads to a different set of power relations than many ethnomusicologists experience when going away to the field. In my own situation there is occasional skepticism, confusion, surprise and excitement about being involved in research about improvisation on the double bass. In these circumstances the development of relationships over longer periods of study seems to be an antidote to relationships in which dialogue is restricted. As a result I have attempted wherever possible to engage with research participants over a sustained period of time.
Some musicians in Sydney still regard the academe with suspicion. Although this is changing, the relationship can still be uneasy as musicians try to stake out space in a limited market for jazz and world music. I recall one musician prior to commencing my research saying that ‘players know players’ in response to my concern that players’ perspectives seem to be going unvoiced in research and other voices may fill the void. At the time, I took the implications of this remark as a suspicion of writing about jazz and improvisation in academic discourse on the grounds that performance should speak for itself with insider knowledge left to those who already possess it. This speaks to the way that the cultural practice of jazz in Sydney acts to exclude those who are not jazz musicians as much as it may
64 attempt to make itself more socially relevant by including other traditions through cross-cultural practices. The position, however, supports an aspect of my argument for researching from a position of relative sameness, as a degree of similarity in terms of musical practice can help address concerns about the insider outsider dynamic and effective representation of musicians’ positions.
Many ethnomusicologists who are interested in jazz are performers and occupy a position characterised by some sort of sameness or affinity with the musicians they study (Berliner 1994, Borgo 2002 & Monson 1996). My level of proficiency as a performer varies in comparison to the different participants. In the majority of cases I am essentially interviewing musicians more established and experienced than myself. The congruence of our ethnic-cultural background and gender may also vary, but the relationships are informed by a commonality of musical experience, associates and mentors. Indeed, initial discussion with bass players has centred on mutual former teachers and similar experiences, which then underpins further discussion serving as a way of illustrating my own points and vice versa, by being able to share common understanding. This has been integral in gathering information and investigating issues. But the ability to converse using examples from experiences is also an important way in which the participants and I demonstrate our knowledge and insiderness: our cultural and social capital. Some form of cultural difference amongst performers even within the perceived boundaries of one style like jazz is a reality of musical performance in cities such as New York, London, Paris and Sydney but does not prevent some sense of sameness.
The ethnographic data gathered for this research was collected by participant observation and musical analysis of live performances heard during this process, and the musicians’ discographies and electronically available recordings, then fed back into dialogue with the musicians. Research participants for this project were approached through emails providing details of: the study, its focus on improvisational approaches on the double bass, my position as a researcher and some of my own musical history. My intention with the permission of the musician was to: begin by establishing contact and perhaps interview them; subsequently go to their performances, and where possible rehearsals for upcoming performances, followed by subsequent interviews. In some cases, certain musicians chose to participate in only some of these, while others were keen to have sustained
65 engagement. The initial inspiration for this project’s methodological approach comes from Ingrid Monson’s landmark study on improvised musical interaction in jazz rhythm sections (1996). Monson’s ethnographic approach was to directly involve musicians in the discussion and analysis of the rhythm section, entering into dialogue with them over musical examples, and discussing the practices of performance amongst New York based jazz musicians (1996). Monson’s approach is interdisciplinary, combining elements of cultural history, musicology, ethnomusicology, and African-American studies in her analysis8. While Monson relied on a wide pool of musicians who had recorded and could use these recordings to facilitate interviews with busy musicians, this study focusing on double bass players in a smaller scene required sustained engagement with live performances and dialogue with the primary informants. Before the outset of this research, with its specific focus on how double bass players improvise in jazz and cross-cultural performance contexts, longer-term engagement was deemed desirable and the work has greatly benefitted from a sustained dialogue between myself and research participants. The result is an investigation into musical practices that reduces its reliance on recorded productions to stimulate dialogue and instead contextualises recordings alongside a broad range of live performances. This reduces the disembodiment of the musical text and locates discussion of performance practices in relation to the individual bodies and subject positions whose perspective is paramount in producing and understanding the use of improvisation and the double bass. While this was possible in many cases and in particular in my relationships with key informants, it was not always possible to achieve such a relationship. In such circumstances prior preparation for interviews using recordings, past memories of performances and secondary sources was used to maximise limited discussion opportunities. This approach is a reality of fieldwork resulting from time constraints – mine and theirs – and the extent to which musicians are willing and able to take time out from their schedules.
The level of participant involvement was based on perceived common interest in the study topic and dependent on similar social spheres or connections based on common previous experiences and teachers. Much of this also has to do
8 Monson’s work also draws on Gilroy’s exploration of the Black Atlantic (1993) in forming its analytical approach.
66 with how the research participants perceived my position: some saw me as a student of the bass, or a potential rival, or as an avenue for the voicing of issues and stories that have gone untold, and some enjoyed the stimulation of discussing their performance practice and social issues related to the music they play. The participants vary widely in age, some with decades of experience and others with only a few years. While most participants are male, reflecting the overall dominance of male musicians in double bass performance, the study does include two female bass players.
My own experience as a double bass player trained in jazz and classical performance and with experiences performing in a variety of stylistic contexts was an asset in forming relationships and provided expertise from which to begin this research. Having contacts and relationships already established with musicians in Sydney was also important in establishing credibility and some sort a position of reference for participants. This is subject to a range of different interpersonal and social issues, as musicians’ social circles do not necessarily overlap and tensions between musicians occur. At certain times my conducting research in the position of an observer appeared to create some concern or anxiety over how performances would be perceived and represented critically and what level of control or input performers would have. As Nettl (2005) has noted, musicians are well aware of researchers, journalists and other gatherers of information for publication and it would be short-sighted not to be upfront about the process of data gathering. To this end I have indicated, in line with the dialogic method outlined earlier in relation to Feld, that I am not intending to operate the interviews like a journalist or observe like a critic, and want to represent their perspective and voice through a process of consultation.
Talking about music
Drawing on the approach of Feld (1987), the discussion of concepts in the field which underpin analysis and subsequent writing is an important part of how my interpretation has been formed in dialogue with research participants. Issues of musical performance, post-colonial identity, national mythologies, cosmopolitanism, gender and improvisation have all formed part of the dialogues
67 between myself and research participants. My dialogical approach to musical analysis from performance is as follows. Data gathered from performances, rehearsals and recordings, be they elements of musical analysis in the form of transcriptions, recording excerpts or observations, are then threaded back into the dialogue with the musician, wherever possible in interview and informal interactions. This is integral to gaining insight into how the musicians improvise and in clarifying how particular practices work where they were unfamiliar to me. It has also proved an effective way to avoid situations where recordings are set up to analyse performances which would only provide a small snapshot of the way in which the musicians improvise in one performance context. In this way by not presenting recordings of performances I can respect the musicians’ right to control how and why recorded sound is captured and disseminated in the public domain. The ubiquity of recorded sound in contemporary jazz has meant that it is easy to overlook that this is still one of a musician’s major artistic statements for posterity, as well as a revenue stream.
Interviews were semi-structured and I have favoured an approach that encourages discussion and dialogue as opposed to question and response. Monson took the approach of talking directly with musicians about music and I have extended this to musical analysis in taking a dialogical approach to methodology, incorporating observations from performances and listening into the direction of questioning and using these musical events to discuss practices on the bass. The analysis of the music was informed by my own knowledge, and because of my interest in how these jazz trained musicians respond to different syncretic and cross- cultural performance situations, the relationship of this to practices was often a topic of discussion.
There is a need for a certain amount of flexibility with this dialogical approach. Often asking for comment on a transcription is not appropriate, and many improvising musicians feel transcription is an inaccurate practice. In some cases it is best to describe the event in the context of particular pieces or to anchor it around the use of a particular unique technique relying partly on my knowledge of how the instrument works and therefore my ability to describe the experience of playing certain things idiosyncratic to the instrument. I have been extremely fortunate in that one of the key research participants Lloyd Swanton has been willing to share
68 resources and review them with me such as the scores on which the performances of Mara! and the Philip Johnston Quartet are based. This has led to interesting dialogues on how the improvisation worked in the performance and how Swanton interacted with the written music.
Further to this, on several occasions Swanton has volunteered to demonstrate and explain his answers to questions about performances and recording excerpts using the double bass. Both scenarios have provided the opportunity to conduct analysis of musical practices and voice them to Swanton immediately, which he has then interpreted, offering different perspectives which in turn reframed how I have thought about and subsequently approached the discussion of musical analysis and specific examples used. In situations such as this my role seems to take on different aspects; in some ways I am in the role of student learning about music and the bass from a much more experienced musician, but the dialogue is far greater than usual and the direction of proceedings is determined in many respects by the questions I ask taking on more of a role as a researcher. Generally speaking this sort of position could be seen to reflect the social stratification based on various levels of expertise, as in effect I am interviewing more experienced musicians than myself. But it can also be seen to reveal the implicit educational models of both jazz musicians and the ethnographic fieldwork process.
In instances where the player is available to and happy to discuss these things during set or rehearsal breaks the research process can be very productive as the referenced event has only recently transpired. At other times when common understanding of the sound being investigated cannot be reached, interactions can seem somewhat like Charles Keil’s account in ‘Participatory Discrepancies’ of his discussion with Blues musician Bo Diddley over the ‘Bo Diddley beat’ (Keil 1987, 280-282). However situations like this can also reveal insights when a musician explains elements of rehearsal or performance practice that help understanding of how they and the rest of an ensemble approach improvisation. Regardless the observation of performances and rehearsals are central to developing further questions and topics of discussion and cross-referenced with recordings lead to the locating of salient features in the sounds and practices of the musicians’ improvisational approach.
69 Most jazz musicians’ practice is characterised by continued learning and refinement even once a high level of expertise is reached; as a result, dialogue over a sustained period reveals a significant aspect of jazz musicians’ practices. Consultants like Swanton and Dunn continue to refine their musical practices, just as I conduct fieldwork with them to better understand my own and those more experienced and established than myself. Proficiency for jazz musicians does not negate further development but in many ways necessitates it; while this is not true of all musicians it is an unspoken cultural code that positions them effectively to make music in a cosmopolitan fashion if desired.
Interpretation and Writing
The interpretation of research results and writing of this thesis occurred alongside and following the fieldwork process. Being located so close to the field, returning to participants for clarification, consultation and further fieldwork has been possible. In some cases, particularly the last two case studies, it was possible to consult the participants over the suitability of the direction of my writing and the research generally, and in some ways confirm the relevance of the themes of discussion with them. In several cases my own opinions differ from those involved and the evidence from the research in some cases contradicts their positions. This is a reality of conducting musical and social analysis, which cannot be shied away from regardless of researcher position and is one of the core ways in which the distinction between researcher and participant is discernible. In Chapter Six I adopt a more historical and contextually based approach to briefly deal with a gap in literature and outline the precedents of bass players who have led musical ensembles and trends in hybrid double bass performance that have developed. I have then utilised two case studies in this chapter of Charles Mingus and Renaud Garcia-Fons placing them in discourse and offering some musical analysis of their approach to exemplify their hybrid approaches and their role in innovating on the instrument.
70 Presentation of Musical Examples
In terms of the use of transcription to illustrate examples to the reader, these examples are largely selected from recordings of ensembles that were discussed with the musicians who were participating. They are presented here primarily to illustrate the particular performance practice I am discussing in visual form. Some of these have a corresponding recording with reference provided, while other examples discussed with musicians following live performances are discussed with reference to examples from similar events in the musicians’ recorded material that the reader may be able to refer to, in an effort to contextualise them. In some contexts where the discussion relates to an ensemble which uses minimal predetermined musical structures such as The Necks, the transcription is representative of a particular gesture as the systems and process of music creation seem to run counter to the formalist nature of musical analysis and transcription methods. While I agree with Monson that transcription is an important tool for analysis and contributes much via visual representation to the written discussion of material, I am also concerned by what Travis A. Jackson has described as a tendency for these depictions to stand in as facsimiles of sound in the study of improvisation in jazz as objective (2002). As a result, transcription appears in order to further the arguments of the thesis and to exemplify sound rather than in place of the argument itself or as a quasi argument for the validity of this music to be studied. In keeping with this philosophy I have included audio examples to accompany these transcription examples when it is appropriate.
71 Chapter Three
Discourse, history and context of the role of the bass player accompanist
Over the course of the next two chapters I examine the role of the bass player accompanist in jazz performance contexts. I explore the relationship between established traditions and ensemble roles and how contemporary practice is shaped by these, but also by how they intersect with cultural hybridity and the innovations that occur as a result. This chapter draws together diverse literature on accompaniment practices to contextualise this aspect of the study and the possibilities it holds for the study of ensemble structures in jazz. It establishes the use of the accompaniment role as a paradigm through which to analyse the relationship between an ensemble’s hierarchy, musical practices and the social structuring or codes of behaviour that are related to double bass performance. I discuss the way the history, definition and issues involved in the role of the bass player accompanist have been understood in academic musical discourse on jazz. In doing so I contextualise my subsequent case study in terms of previous discourse on accompaniment roles and the range of significant approaches to bass accompaniment practices that exists. As such I further the argument that bass players’ practices can be better understood in relation to cultural hybridity despite the ongoing relevance of established or traditional models.
3.1 Literature on accompaniment roles in musicology and ethnomusicology
Two well known ethnomusicological literatures on accompaniment practices and their relationship to musical hierarchy in musics that utilise improvisation have emerged from studies into the social organisation and distribution of musical authority in Hindustani music and the discussion of accompaniment in jazz performance contexts. Neuman has examined the association of soloist and accompanist roles in North India with particular social groups within the caste system and some of the musical expressions of this system. Neuman discusses accompanists as holding the social position of artisan rather than of artist; at Neuman’s time of writing some forty years ago this was associated with a lineage to a particular school of familial musical training in a gharana (1977, 238-239).
72 Accompanists are interchangeable and hired by the soloist who earns more money, walks on stage first and is responsible for ‘the total musical performance’: choosing the tempo, tuning and the direction of the piece’s development and expressing the ‘soloists’s creative powers’ (1977, 238).
There have, however been significant changes in the distribution of musical authority and the social organisation of Hindustani soloists and accompanists in the course of the 20th and 21st centuries. Neuman sees a change in the social organisation of musicians occurring with the training of musicians outside specialist family groups as soloists and the shift in the definition of a gharana to the identity of well-known performers like Ravi Shankar based on musical identity as opposed to familial inheritance (1977, 240). This ‘ambivalence’ in turn helps accompanists define themselves as part of a duet rather than a mere accompanist, a concept reinforced by western audiences and by the desire of accompanists with increasing solo repertoire such as tabla players to view their social ranking in line with the gharanas they had previously been excluded from (1977, 239-241). The greater need for accompanists in the commercial music sector such as T.V. also sees accompanists in greater demand for their services and better renumerated.
Napier writing several decades later confirms a shift in social organisation and suggests a new musical dynamic between the soloist’s authority and the competition between him/her and the accompanist (2004, 51). However, Napier is adamant that despite soloists’ concerns about being challenged by the accompanists who might upstage them, this competitiveness is always presented by the performers in an amicable light due to audience’s expectations and does not descend into ‘free-for-alls!’ (2004, 51-52). Despite the change in the social processes of musical role assignation, the ‘ideological framework’ of music-making in these performance contexts has continued to emphasise ‘notions of pedigree, seniority and authority’ without a hereditary framework of social organisation (2004, 52). The result is that soloist and accompanist are ‘cooperative and mutually sympathetic’, a relationship in which the accompanist is seen as an ‘authoritative [voice]’ with partial autonomy in terms of their melodic interjections even though they ‘may not necessarily be able to claim authority over the soloist’ (2007, 296).
73 This literature on accompaniment in Hindustani music reveals that involved in the practices of accompanist and soloist, ensemble performance is a complex intertwining of musical voices which negotiate authority over aspects of the performance. This is partially determined by the musician’s position in what is now a heterogeneous social make-up of musical roles. Hierarchies based on perceived authority in terms of musical skill, lineage and social reputation are paramount in determining how musical space will be assigned to the accompanist, but there is ample scope for a role beyond mere accompanist within the confines of a somewhat secondary status in the musical hierarchy.
In classical music, accompanists have received less focus in academic, historical and public attention than their soloist counterparts. Only the exceptional accompanists and those who contribute to the discourse that takes place on their own musical performance and experience such as in Gerald Moore’s autobiographical writing receive more substantial attention (Moore 1962). While further musicological work has been undertaken examining the experiences of accompanists, this has continued to focus on notable individuals such as the African American piano accompanists William Duncan Allen and Frances Joan Singleton, examining specific styles such as lied (Binder 2014) or alternatively on pedagogical materials and their development (Gregory and Belgrave 2009) and psychological perspectives on accompaniment practices (Lehmann and Ericsson 1993).
Literature on accompaniment practices in jazz has not tended to examine the social positioning of musicians and how it impacts ensemble hierarchies. It is possible the music’s association with democratic and progressive social movements in the U.S and improvisation’s association with concepts of freedom of expression have meant that the ensemble hierarchies that structure performances have been overlooked. Jazz’s improvised processes generally provide opportunities for each musician to contribute creatively and this has by and large been connected to concepts or ideals of personal freedom, voice and democratic structure in the social context of African-American musicians’ performance of music in the United States (Porter 1999, 423-426). However these contributions have conditions and certainly limitations, especially for those responsible for the groove of the ensemble, which are not dissimilar to the way labour was traditionally divided in Hindustani classical music.
74 Berliner provides a thorough itemisation and description of the performance practices used by bass players in jazz and their role in the rhythm section as ‘delineating the harmonic-rhythmic structure of pieces’ from early jazz to the 1990s (1994, 315). Berliner charts the development of bass player practices from almost entirely rhythmic and inaudible to becoming what several of his participants term a ‘voice’ in the ensemble: capable, according to the eminent player Rufus Reid, of ‘the same kind of liberties’, melodically and rhythmically that a horn player would take (1994, 319). It is significant that Berliner refers to these melodic practices as ‘liberties’, implying that restriction is part of the orthodoxy of bass playing practices.
Berliner’s summation refers to the bass ‘{developing} within the jazz idiom in direct relationship to the skills and creativity of its master artists’ and while the musical examples he provides are of master artists they are also predominantly of walking bass style accompaniment and not of these ‘liberties’ (1994, 319 & 607- 616). This is problematic firstly because a significant proportion of jazz bass players are generally not considered ‘master artists’ but sidemen. Nor do they carry the stature of those represented in the book like Ron Carter, Rufus Reid and Chuck Israels. Secondly in Berliner’s selection of examples, despite mentioning the broad range of melodic accompaniment practices used by master players like Lafaro and Buster Williams, these are not exemplified. Rather a more confined approach to bass playing using walking bass lines and excluding Latin styles such as bossa nova predominates (1994, 607-616). The diversity and hybridity of the practices of double bass players is absent in this representation.
Regardless of this absence, Berliner’s depiction leads to the question of why bass players continue to play and are seen to be defined by this more fundamental and traditional role, as the delineator of harmonic and rhythmic material, despite countless examples to the contrary. Indeed, Berliner’s examples are in line with the dominating perspective of the double bass player’s work as focused on groove and foundational support through the walking bass line. However, it ignores other grooves which are essential to jazz and which reflect an underlying hybridity, such as the samba, bossa nova and lines built around adaptations of the Cuban son clave that have been essential to bass players’ practices since before Berliner’s writing.
75 Berliner’s discussion of the learning processes of different instrumentalists also presents an interesting perspective. In his chapter ‘Learning the Musical Role of the Bass’, concerns about maintaining harmonic and rhythmic form are given prime position (1994, 319-324). The development of note selection strategies in delineating chord movements and the varying of crotchet note patterns with quavers and triplet quavers largely endorse the foundational harmonic and rhythmic role as the role belonging to bass players in jazz (1994, 322). Berliner even suggests accompanists’ solo space is restricted as a structural necessity, because of the great burden of having to accompany throughout the performance (1994, 299). This is a reasonable proposition but a somewhat simplified version of the ensemble hierarchies which ignores the greater social and musical power given to the leader in controlling who features as an improviser (Berliner 1994, 299). To a certain degree the preference of leaders as employers for particular overarching rhythm section styles directs how they distribute musical roles and therefore who is given creative restrictions and liberties. A leader who demands the four to the bar swing of groups like the Jazz Messengers or the 1950s Davis Quintets will lead to a vastly different selection of bass performance practices compared to a leader who desires the diverse and responsive work of the Haden-Blackwell rhythm section with Ornette Coleman or the interactive style of Paul Motian and Scott Lafaro rhythm section with Bill Evans. Of course the latter two examples while prevalent are not the norm in jazz performance contexts or as pedagogical models.
To this extent Berliner’s description of the practices of double bass players holds true in many scenarios. In the following chapter I will show that bass players’ practices are effected by the musical direction of leaders, by issues such as repertoire, and the exemplar practices Berliner mentions of Paul Chambers, Ron Carter and Ray Brown outline such approaches (Berliner 1994, 380-2 & 395-396). I will show how these practices are then developed and explored in performance contexts and even at times used to deal with adverse performance scenarios in which a bass player’s personal style does not directly correlate with the leader’s ideal style and a certain amount of agility is required.
Monson adopts a position similar to Berliner on the role of the bass player, saying that ‘Bassists spoke most often about the rhythmic and harmonic responsibilities of their instrumental role’ (1996, 29). She posits that the bass player
76 is responsive and interactive but always a secondary source of melodic information when accompanying. The melody, provided by a frontline instrument, sits atop the swing groove and the interaction of secondary lines from the bass which she shows in her discussion of Richard Davis’ bass playing with trumpeter Freddie Hubbard. ‘In some cases the lines are secondary melodies or riffs, or they are in a relationship of call and response.’ (1996, 32). Davis interacts and develops the music with Hubbard but they are not, however, on equal footing in the ensemble hierarchy. Monson’s analysis of bass player practices within an interactive framework of rhythm section performance suggests a role beyond a purely foundational harmonic and rhythmic one, a role which Berliner had hinted at but not explored fully in his writing.
It is worth noting that neither Berliner nor Monson specifically refer to disputes over this role but rather emphasise collective approaches to swinging or grooving as an aspect musicians continue to emphasise, despite the somewhat competitive nature of jazz performance. Interestingly Monson does not make reference to other accompaniment models Davis has been a part of such as his playing with Eric Dolphy. In the ensemble that recorded Out to Lunch (1962), the bass player’s practices may be seen as more competitive or playful, deviating from the harmonic and rhythmic foundation to spar with the soloist.
Despite writing sometime after the advent of free jazz, Latin jazz and jazz fusion, Monson and Berliner are fairly silent on hybridity and its effect on the practices of jazz bass players and the diversity of abilities that is expected of bass players. The dominance of tradition as a conceptual framework for jazz in the 1990s with the rise of the neo-conservative movement might go some way to explaining the continued focus on the walking bass line. But this would be speculative at best and the interest in the performance practice for players seems to lie in its capacities to interact with the harmonically complex forms of jazz while still providing a swinging walking or two feel bass line. However, there seems to be some distance between discourse and practice in that most jazz bass players do not only swing. Rhythmic practices based on clave, samba and straight-eights rock-fusion feels are a common part of the double bass repertoire in contemporary ensembles with the former two playing a central role in jazz since groups led by Ellington and Gillespie.
77 Two more recent scholarly approaches to jazz rhythm sections based on interaction have suggested alternative approaches to understanding the musical role of the bass player based on interaction. The theoretical approach of Robert Hodson argues that the work on rhythm section roles done by Berliner and Monson should be updated by and analysis of jazz based on an improvisational process common to standard jazz practice and free jazz:
the improvisational process involves musicians simultaneously deciding what to play, playing it, hearing what the other musicians in the ensemble are playing, and possibly modifying subsequent decisions about what to play based on what they hear. (2007, 117) Hodson’s harmonically based analysis however relies on an approach that speculates on the relationship between the different players’ contributions to the performance. He provides some reworking of ensemble roles in that Interaction, Improvisation and Interplay in Jazz includes some analysis of free jazz (2007). Hodson refers to the way in which the musicians on Ornette Coleman’s free jazz ‘weave lines contrapuntally around one another’ (2007, 171), however, the impact on ensemble organisation of free jazz is not discussed in terms of its relationship to the traditional bass role. Rather Hodson’s analysis is more interested in interaction, and its relationship to harmony and form (Butterfield 2007, 240). Butterfield has suggested that this approach ‘occasionally blinds him to more plausible explanations of the decisions musicians make in the midst of the performance (2007, 247)
Similarly, Nathan Bakkum’s work on rhythm section places a focus on interaction. However whereas Hodson had been orientated to musical analysis Bakkum is interested in the social structures that influence musical practice. He places the concept of ‘performative negotiation with structure’ developed by Travis A. Jackson, as the centre of a process he argues cultivates site specific approaches to musical interaction within particular ensembles and scenes (2009, 1-6). The social and historical focus on these interactions in Bakkum’s thesis exams the dynamic networks of musicians beyond the ensemble (2009, 163). While it is not focused on the practices and roles of the musicians to the same degree as Monson (1996) and Berliner (1994) the inclusion of hybridity in theorising how the broader social context influences the practices of jazz musicians is a development in theorising jazz rhythm section interaction.
78 The academic literature that exists on double bass players who work as sidemen and women accompanying is mostly devoted to the practices of notable players who appear on albums with prominent ensembles in the historiography of jazz (Shipton 2001 & Gioia 1997). These include: such as Paul Chambers and Ron Carter with Miles Davis, Ray Brown with Oscar Peterson; Cecil McBee with Pharoah Sanders, Richard Davis with Eric Dolphy; Charlie Haden with Ornette Coleman, Chuck Israels with Bill Evans. These players occupied roles in long working bands that achieved acclaim contemporaneously and historically and are in this sense quite exceptional. In particular, players such as Chambers, Carter, Brown and Haden, are often touted as examples of archetypal bass players in both historical texts and by contemporary players around the world. There is substantial anecdotal and ethnographic evidence of this, including that found in this study9. Those sidemen who have received noteworthy praise as soloists in other leaders’ ensembles, tend to be seen as exceptional, for example Scott Lafaro with Bill Evans and Jimmie Blanton with Duke Ellington.10
The development of the modern bass approach has often been linked to Blanton’s work with Duke Ellington and his ability to accompany but also to solo melodically. The Blanton mythology is partly built up around his position as an accompanist to Ellington and the performance and execution of the legendary composer’s musical ideas. While Blanton is often perceived to be the first to achieve a melodic approach to improvisation on the bass, David Chevan has demonstrated that this is probably an anachronistic assumption perpetuated by the fragmented state of recording between the World Wars and the tendency of contemporary historians to view the creative process of the music at the time through the musical products that are now available (Chevan 1989, 76).
Narratives of the development of the double bass player’s role in jazz continue in much the same vein until more recent times when a diversity of approaches to the instrument in so called fusions and in vastly different
9 Study Participants often cited these bass players as models in learning the double bass. In the case of Haden, Swanton cites him as an important influence in developing an extended approach to the instrument’s possibilities for sound creation. 10 For a critique of Blanton’s positioning as a ‘genius’ in jazz history see Chevan, David. 1989. "The Double Bass as a Solo Instrument in Early Jazz." The Black Perspective in Music 17 (1/2).
79 performance contexts makes this narrative difficult to sustain. Add to this the complicated multi-locality of jazz, various idiosyncratic, vernacular and diasporic approaches and a clear picture of the bass role is hard to pin down.
The bass role continues to be defined in the literature, by educational institutions and to a certain extent by musicians as that which was developed by Chambers and Brown: as a musical practice that seeks to project rhythmic and harmonic structure in performance when accompanying and even when soloing. This is despite the much more hybrid reality of performing on the double bass in contemporary jazz. This conception or definition is inextricably connected to the practice of foundational support of other soloists rather than taking the chief musical role of melodic performance. The exception is, at least in popular thought, the work of Charles Mingus whose compositional prowess and idiosyncratic behaviour saw him move between roles of bass accompanist, soloist and composer and occupy the latter two in the way he has been represented in history.
3.2 Positioning significant bassists in historical and pedagogical performance discourse on the bass accompaniment role.
In this section I outline the relationship between some of the key double bass player accompanists of the 20th century who continue to influence contemporary players and their representation. The representation of the double bass player in jazz history has been limited and in David Chevan’s view subject to a narrative that has hailed genius innovators on the instrument and presented a rather diminished position for double bass players in general (1989, 73). Again this is partly due to the limited recorded documentation of double bassist practices in the inter-war period and the relative expense and access issues of recording in the period until the 1950s that Chevan discusses (Chevan 1989, 76).
Chevan’s characterisation of the representation of double bassists’ practices in jazz history could also be applied to the limited presence given to diversity in performance practices due to hybridity and the role improvisation plays in such practices. Chevan’s article reveals the ingrained assumption about the role of the bass in the narrative of jazz and while he does not discuss it, contextualises how
80 discourse helped direct views of it as primarily an accompanying instrument. This is furthered by the minimal role that double bassists played as leaders of ensembles early in jazz and even fewer who achieved widespread commercial and historical notoriety.
Yet as I will show in the coming pages, bass players who are seen in historical discourse as accompanists have at times had a more complicated relationship to this role and led their own groups for major labels like Blue Note, but this tends not to be recorded in jazz histories. They also did not sustain careers as ensemble leaders or conduct tours to the extent that other instrumentalists, even rhythm section players like drummers Art Blakey, Gene Grupa and Buddy Rich, were able to. The underlying causes for this are not clear, but the situation is significant enough to warrant mentioning in contextualising how contemporary bass players understand and practise their role.
Perhaps of particular interest is the renowned Miles Davis sideman Paul Chambers. Chambers is noted as a member of the Miles Davis Sextet and for working with John Coltrane in the jazz histories of Ted Gioia (1997) and Alyn Shipton (2001). However, his work as leader on two recording sessions Bass on Top and Tale of the Fingers from the late 1950s, is absent in these histories. This is despite the recordings’ quite notable demonstration of the capacity for the double bassist to improvise in the bebop idiom, using the style of Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, and to do so using the bow. Chambers plays melodies, improvises solos and performs bass lines for other soloists. His performance is the central thread of these recordings, making the title Bass on Top both serious and ironic, yet the bass style is still closely allied to the bass accompanist approach.
Despite the relative anonymity of Chamber’s recording in jazz histories, his performances have proved significant in the instruction of double bass players, but are used to reinforce an accompanist model and assert the need of the bass player, even when soloing, to focus on time feel and clarity. Chambers is often touted as an ideal model of the working bass player, a firm and supportive accompanist but also an astute soloist when required: his solo playing continues to be used as a model by teachers around Sydney as I have encountered along with participants in this study such as Brendan Clarke.
81 Chambers’ representation in this context is similar to that of Oscar Pettiford in the 1940s and 1950s, when Pettiford led recording sessions that were aesthetically influential but often sidelined. Mention of him in historical texts such as Shipton’s A New History of Jazz is confined to his sideman role, except for a brief mention of him leading the recording of compositions by Dizzy Gillespie on the same date as Gillespie’s first recordings as a leader (Shipton 2001, 469-470). His significant involvement in the Downtown jazz scene and Minton’s playhouse that gave birth to bebop and his use of the bebop language on the bass as well as compositional abilities such as shown in his tune ‘Tricotism’ are also absent in Gioia’s The History of Jazz (1997).
‘Tricotism’ is a significant composition in the bebop idiom and has often been recorded and performed by renowned artists such as Oscar Peterson and Joe Pass, and continues to be performed by significant contemporary artists such as vocalist Cyrille Aimee. The original piece features a unison bass and saxophone melody and a full chorus of bass improvisation amongst the saxophone solos (Pettiford 1954). Pettiford maintains reference to the bass accompanist role segueing from the melody to walking bass for the saxophone solo and then out of his solo into walking bass for another solo. However, in historical writing Pettiford is mostly represented as Gioia describes him: as ‘a sympathetic accompanist’ and as continuing the legacy of Jimmie Blanton (Gioia 1997, 214). Pettiford’s approach to the bass in the bebop idiom has an important place alongside Chambers in demonstrating a combination of bass accompanying abilities and bebop improvisational abilities, particularly as heard in ‘Tricotism’ which is used pedagogically to exemplify these skills to developing bassists. Yet Pettiford was also including calypso grooves in his playing and composing at this time on tunes such as ‘Oscalypso’ (1955). The cases of Chambers and Pettiford demonstrate how even when occasionally leading and performing melodies, accompanist bassists are understood as performing the traditional role of the bass as their main function, and must demonstrate foundational harmonic and rhythmic abilities.11
Ray Brown is known for his role as an accompanist with Dizzy Gillespie, Oscar Peterson and many others. Brown is often represented in histories as
11 An exception to this is of course when Pettiford performed on cello and another bass player performed the bass role.
82 extending the approach of Blanton in his work with Gillespie (Gioia 1997, 186 & 216). His abilities as an accompanist and soloist with the Oscar Peterson Trio have proved of greater interest to double bass players and are often discussed in educational books (Goldsby 2002 & Peplin 2001, 65-68). Historical and pedagogical discourse on his contribution usually focuses on his firm bass playing and excellent time feel, characterised in his ability to make the music swing, and his propensity to push the tempo rather than lay back is often noted (Goldsby 2002, 259). Discussion of soloistic abilities of players in this group is perhaps unsurprisingly dominated by discussion of Peterson’s virtuosic soloing over the rhythm section of Brown and Ed Thigpen. However Brown’s often groove-based soloing serves as an excellent template for the practices of the double bass accompanists’.12 Brown’s solos such as on ‘Night Train’ demonstrate the ability to maintain harmonic and rhythmic form while also providing melodic interest. As such they are often the subject of jazz double bass educational books and transcription exercises for bassists.13
Likewise, Ron Carter is often discussed in terms of his involvement with Miles Davis’ subsequent quintet as one of the leading exponents of the bass accompaniment role in general histories and amongst players (Gioia 1997, 300 & 332 & Shipton 2001, 643-856-8). His own work as an educator including the authoring of several books put forward a style based on the walking bass line pushed to the limit, utilising intricate rhythmic subdivisions and harmonic inversions on the down beat.14 In this regard he is a significant model of ways to actively and creatively accompany soloists while maintaining a relatively traditional bass line accompanying role.
Indeed, in my time with Sydney bassist Brendan Clarke he made several references to his own time studying with Carter and the importance Carter placed on working with the metronome to actively make “it swing” rather than seeing the performance as already swinging. In this scenario the bass player is responsible for
12 Participants of this study often cited Brown as an influence, in particular Philip Rex who drew on his soloing style to inform his own (Rex 2015, personal communication). 13 For an example of this see the full transcription of Brown’s bass line and solo from ‘Night Train’ in Bass Standards: Classic Master’s Series (2001) 14 Examples of this can be found in Carter’s pedagogical materials for bassists, Ron Carter: Building Jazz Bass lines: A compendium of techniques for great bass lines (1998) and John Goldby’s The Jazz Bass Book: Technique and Tradition (2002).
83 learning how to create the swing feel, not just for playing a swing feel that is intrinsically already there (Clarke 2015, personal communication). Clarke’s lessons with Carter were in 2015, demonstrating the enduring significance and relevance of understanding and using these performance practices in contemporary jazz contexts despite developments since.
Developments in double bass accompaniment that are more interactive, involving the use of the two feel combined with polyphonic interaction used by Scott Lafaro and Eddie Gomez have not reduced the dominance of the walking bass line and harmonic-rhythmic foundation that has dominated practice and representation of the bass role. These interactive approaches to bass accompaniment have interested those whose research has a pedagogical intent, for example Donald Wilner’s thesis on Lafaro’s playing with Bill Evans (1995) but have not been reproduced to a large extent in the performances and the preferences of the musicians involved in this research project.
The innovative quality of Lafaro’s interaction with Evans is difficult to recreate and Evans himself had trouble in replicating the same quality of dialogue with subsequent bassists such as Gomez and Marc Johnson, opting to rehearse some of this interaction (Shadwick 2002). The style is also highly virtuosic, which is seen by many bass players as contrary to the foundational and supportive role of the bass, because it does not provide an adequate basis for the rest of the ensemble. In reality the limited usage of these practices is probably attributable to a combination of these factors.
Another notable figure in the accompaniment practices of double bass players has been Charlie Haden, whose pedalling and octave pedalling practices have become important parts of the bass vocabulary. Haden’s development of a rhythmically and melodically interactive but still foundational practice in accompaniment is renowned and influence can be widely heard in the performance practices of local and international bass players (Caduff 2010). However it is his work with the Ornette Coleman quartet that has been most noted in jazz histories
84 (Gioia 1997, 342-346 & Shipton 779-780 & 782) and overtly appropriated into a wide range of jazz performance and hybrid styles.15
3.3 The context of cultural hybridity in the bass accompaniment role
The addition of rhythmic forms from other cultures into the bass role has become prevalent and is perhaps the most pervasive way that we can see cultural hybridity reflected in performance practices historically. From Gillespie’s ‘Manteca’ to Stan Getz’s work with Jobim, collaboration with musicians from Latin America has had a lasting impact on diversifying the performance practices of jazz bass players. Some pedagogical bass materials raise hybridity as an important feature of performance practice, including those written by Berliner’s own research participants such as Rufus Reid. Reid’s widely used book The Evolving Bassist (2004), incorporates bossa nova, samba and Afro-Cuban styles of bass playing, while the popular contemporary books by John Goldsby, The Jazz Bass Book: Technique and Tradition (2002) and Santi Debriano, The Modern Bass Player’s Toolbox (2015) also mention the significance of these approaches which Debriano intends to publish a subsequent book on.
Timbao bass patterns, samba and bossa nova, have become part of the jazz bass idiom. Notably the array of bass lines demonstrated in The Evolving Bassist ranges from the approaches of Chambers and Carter to the incorporation of strategies to develop Latin bass lines (2000, 114-115). These include notated examples of variations on the bossa nova, the mambo, calypso, son montuno, what he describes as the Cuban afro in 6/8 and various combinations of these approaches (2002, 115). Such bass lines are also reflected in the diversity of rhythms included in his own playing career including on standards often considered Latin jazz, such as ‘Blue Bossa’ recorded with Joe Henderson (1992). Reid’s book holds a level of significance in understanding the requirements of contemporary players due to the esteem he is held in by his peers, and his sustained a role in tertiary education at William Patterson University in New Jersey.
15 Haden has been noted by many collaborators, including Keith Jarrett as can be heard on Reto Caduff’s documentary Rambling Boy (2010 Pixiu Films) and bass players in this study (Swanton 2014a, personal communication), as having a melodic approach to the double bass.
85 Reid’s introduction of the Latin bass lines in his book demonstrates how hybridity in jazz bass performance practices has become central to the accompanist’s career. This has occurred and occurs in a context of openness towards cultural hybridity.
Bass lines and bass patterns in a Latin concept require in-depth study as in any other form of music to execute it correctly. Correctly means when you are able to only understand, but can function playing in a truly authentic setting. If you are asked to join in again, you must be doing well.
Duke Ellington introduced flavours of the music of many of the countries he visited in much of his music. Dizzy Gillespie was one of the most notables [sic] to embrace and incorporate the music from Africa and Cuba with the Be-bop style. All of this music has a deep history. To play it well you must study from the source. The best way is to play with people who live and breathe the style to get inside of it. World music is very interesting to the creative player. American Jazz players are paying more attention to the details of these different forms, which enables them to meld it into their own style. These next few examples are to get you started in the numerous Latin styles. I list some books on this subject in the back of the book. To listen to the real thing, check out the recordings of Master musicians such as Israel “Cachao” Lopez, Carlos Del Puerto, Andy Gonzales, Tito Puente, Eddie Palmieri, Clare Fischer, Ray Barretto and “Cucho” Valdez.
The music from Brazil also has given another palette to the jazz player. Saxophonist Stan Getz became even more popular by introducing the Bossa Nova style to his music. Master musician and composer Wayne Shorter collaborated with Milton Nascimento. Antonio Carlos Jobim, Joao Gilberto, Sergio Mendes, and Ivan Lins, to name a few, have beautiful compositions that jazz players gravitate to.
There is no real excuse for any of us to play these styles poorly. I suggest that you add these techniques to your arsenal. You will definitely have fun. (2000, 114-112) Reid entreats bass players to use face-to-face interaction with those who perform authentically so they might do the same. He constructs a narrative somewhat at odds with most musical historical discourse that links the incorporation of Latin music in jazz back to Ellington and makes it part of the essential practice of jazz bass players. These musical influences are also seen to give the bass player the benefit of an expanded vocabulary, but in Reid’s perspective there is a social contract that the player will master the style in an authentic way. This rhetoric is important in establishing Reid’s practices as beyond cultural hybridity and situating them as a purposeful approach to the embracing and understanding of difference in musical performance, one that can be associated with cosmopolitanism.
However, in reality the bass lines performed by jazz musicians likely differ from the original Latin styles. They are adapted to the context with elements of the swing feel and to suit the relationship to the drum kit and/or the complex harmonic structures of jazz. Quite often these bass lines are also subject to a higher degree of
86 variation rhythmically and tonally and are seen as requiring an interactive and improvisational component. Bossa nova for example, is performed in a quiet and laid back tone and Ron Carter uses a bass line similar to a two feel on pieces such as Jobim’s ‘Triste’ (1967). Take this example below from 15 seconds into the performance on the album Wave (1967).
Example 1. ‘Triste’, Wave (1967). Bass line excerpt. 00:00:15 Transcription. Audio Example 1. Track 1. Jobim, Antonio Carlos. 1967. ‘Triste’, on Wave. New York: Verve Music Group.
Jazz performances of the same repertoire tend to utilise a much more elaborate approach to the bass line and some harmonic alterations. An example of this is a performance of ‘Triste’ by the Adrian Cunningham Quartet with Sydney bassist Craig Scott from 18 seconds into the recording on the page below.
Example 2. ‘Triste’, Unspoken (2002). Bass line excerpt. 00:00:18 Transcription. Audio Example 2. Track 2. Cunningham, Adrian. 2002. ‘Triste’, Unspoken. Sydney: Sony Studios.
In more recent times prominent developments have occurred in accompaniment practices, which have signalled an obvious departure from the walking bass as jazz musicians have sought to explore complex metric structures. One of the developments in jazz performance has been linked to musicians’ interest
87 in the systematic rhythmic approach of Hindustani musicians and associated with jazz fusion projects like Shakti featuring John McLaughlin, Zakir Hussain, L. Shankar, T.H. Vikku Vinyakram and R. Raghavan (1976).16 Research investigating such practices and their use in jazz has become an emerging field in graduate studies in jazz performance, which aims to improve or expand on pedagogy and practice (Evans 2014, Oh 2005), and in ethnomusicology (Slawek 2009) but has seldom entered historical narratives (Oh 2005, Pass 2013 & Trapchak 2002). Trapchak has highlighted the developments in performing uneven metres in New York City in the 1990s where players such as Larry Grenadier, Johannes Weidenmuller and Scott Colley applied complex groupings to bass line construction in jazz performance contexts (2002, 6-10). This scene used largely acoustic jazz performance style and made reference to the jazz standard repertoire by reinterpreting it with contemporary practices in addition to new repertoire (2002, 10). One of the most direct ways this reinterpretation can be seen is in the performance of jazz standards set to different time structures; for example, as seen in Trapchak’s study of Grenadier’s performance of ‘All the Things You Are’ with prominent piano player Brad Mehldhau (2002, 10). An excerpt of the transcription he uses to discuss these practices appears on the next page.
16 See Shakti (1976) Shakti with John McLaughlin. New York: Columbia
88 Example 3. ‘All the Things You Are’, The Art of The Trio, 4: Back at the Vanguard (1999). Bass line, unpublished transcription (Trapchak, 2002, 67). 00:00:00 Mm.1-18. Audio Example 3. Track 3. Brad Mehldau Trio. 1999. ‘All the Things You Are’, The Art of The Trio, 4: Back at the Vanguard: New York: Warner Bros. Records.
Trapchak uses the transcription above to identify how Grenadier’s bass line uses a foundational rhythmic grouping of two minims followed by two dotted crotchets, seen in bars seven and sixteen, which coincides with how the harmonic form is broken up. On the two minims the first chord is played and on the two dotted crotchets the second chord is played with an underlying metre in seven (Trapchak 2002, 36). Trapchak discusses this foundational rhythmic structure as a ‘clave’ on which variations of the bass line are built, for example bars ten and fourteen, and the feel of the piece is built (Trapchak 2002, 36). Stylistically this leads Grenadier to play a bass line that straddles the walking bass and the clave but is neither in the head and most of the solo.17 The ‘clave’ is a rhythmic ostinato that is returned regularly while Grenadier creates more spontaneous interjections, which eventually
17 In the last three choruses of the piano solo Grenadier plays a walking bass line in three. This example can be heard on The Art of The Trio, 4: Back at the Vanguard (1999).
89 resolve into or make reference or this ‘clave’ feel (2002, 26). This is an approach which can also be seen in Grenadier’s work with Joshua Redman, for example the performance of ‘East of the Sun and West of the Moon’ in groupings of seven (2007). Practices such as these have become integral particularly to the performance of jazz by younger musicians such as Thomas Botting, a participant in this study, who is influenced by the rhythmic subdivisions of heavy metal ensembles like Tool and alternative or indie music.
Part of the appeal of Grenadier’s style is his use of high action and a large, firm acoustic sound reminiscent of Ray Brown’s unamplified playing on recordings. This element of performance style reaffirms the bass role by being firm and foundational, but applies the role to a different performance style, which is more exploratory in rhythmic language. This is part of its appeal to local Australian based musicians and serves as a marker of jazz authenticity because of its popularity in New York and the influence of recordings emanating from that scene on local performance practices.
The bass accompaniment role in more overtly hybrid music-making has had a diverse trajectory as the jazz bass has been inserted in contexts where previously there was no bass or no comparable bass role. There has not yet been a coalescing of strong stylistic trends around cross-cultural collaboration between jazz and Indian classical Musics, Persian music, maqām based Middle-Eastern musics, East Asian musics and more. In short, the possibilities for cross-cultural collaboration and the range of sounds at play means it is relatively difficult and certainly not possible in the scope of this study to categorise or codify these developments. Certainly the musical practice of jazz resists such codification and points to the often rhetorical way tradition is invoked in discourse, to refer to established cultural practices dominating while hybridity has continued. Rather there is a need to exemplify the underlying processes and site-specific products of particular projects that appear to be influential in this regard. I provide an approach that is so exemplified in relation to Kate Pass and Philip Rex in the following chapter. Indeed, research participants involved in cross-cultural music-making in some cases mentioned no particular double bass accompaniment influences involved in selecting their novel approaches.
90 Some important examples of the bass role accompaniment in cross-cultural music-making that are significant to bassists involved in this study and research projects conducted by bassists interested in other cultures have emerged. Several bassists have pointed to the influence of Dave Holland’s work with ’ud player Anouar Brahem and saxophonist John Surman on the album Thimar (1997).18 Although Holland is known as an ensemble leader his work here is primarily as an accompanist and is decidedly sparser than heard in his own projects, which utilise complex polyrhythmic interplay between bass, drums and melodic construction. In the project with Brahem, Holland utilises a range of practices which appear minimally in jazz, such as the substantial use of bowed double stops, creating a drone like effect, and his solo improvisations use elements of maqām structure in melodic phrasing or note choice. His use of recurring ostinato bass lines on the other hand is emblematic of performance practices in both jazz and tak taksim.
In a similar vein bassist Avishai Cohen’s accompaniment uses drone like accompaniment, ostinatos and a linear approach to bass line organisation to create interest within a particular scale as opposed to jazz’s more usual movement between chords and two-five-one cadences (Pass 2013, 14-15 & Pass 2015, Personal Communication). This is a practice which participants have argued is essential to dealing with the modally based tonal structures of the dastgāh and maqām in collaborations and will be further addressed in Chapter Four in relation to Kate Pass and in relation to Jess Dunn in Chapter Seven.
While the ethnomusicological study of both jazz and Hindustani music trace a development in accompaniment practices and increased soloistic skills and performance time among accompanists, I would argue, as Napier has of sangat/harmonium accompaniment, that traditional aesthetic values continue and are mostly maintained by discourse on bass players in jazz (2007, 296). However,
18 See Oh, Linda (2005). New Method of Rhythmic Improvisation for the Jazz Bassist: an interdisciplinary study of Dave Holland’s rhythmic approach to bass improvisation and North Indian rhythmic patterns. (Bachelor of Jazz Performance with Honours) West Australian Academy of Performing Arts. and Pass. K (2013). A Transcultural Journey: Integrating Elements of Persian Classical Music with Jazz. Bachelor of Music (Honours) West Australian Academy of Performing Arts.
91 as I have demonstrated, there is a greater range of established practices in the bass accompaniment role, which reflects the music’s cultural hybridity, and has often been excluded from discourse. The increasing involvement of bass players in cross- cultural music-making and collaborations draws attention to how experimentation with the bass role occurs in contemporary hybrid performance contexts, but this hybridity is not in itself new to bass players’ practices. The next chapter will build on this analysis of discourse by presenting fieldwork case studies of bass players who perform the accompanying role as their primary work. It will look at how the bass role operates in their experience and how it interacts with social factors such as ensemble structures, hierarchies and expectation of their approach to performance. In the second part of the next chapter I will look at specific cases where double bass accompanists’ improvisation encounters hybridity in cross-cultural music-making, discussing what improvisation in these ensembles might reveal about the contemporary experience of performing the bass role.
92
93 Chapter Four
Holding it down: A fieldwork study of bass player accompanists
In this chapter I build on the literature discussed in the previous chapter, presenting ways in which understanding of the bass role might be updated or expanded, particularly in the light of cultural hybridity. I present results of fieldwork with bass players who work primarily as sidemen or women using the accompanying bass role as the foundation of their musical practices. I introduce the perspectives and performances of esteemed Australian double bass players such as the Sydney based Brendan Clarke, Melbourne based Philip Rex, and prominent younger musicians such as Sydney based Tom Botting and Perth based Kate Pass. In doing so I explore how musicians define the bass role, their learning of the bass role and its implementation, and propose a more contemporary understanding of the bass role in the context of popular music, hybridity and cross cultural-collaboration. Lastly I begin to trace the links between the bass role and the idiosyncrasies of how bass player accompanists have taken on the leadership of their own ensembles. In doing so I develop the argument that hybrid musical performance contexts change and/or add to the ways that bass players fulfil this role, but that players continue to practise the jazz bass tradition of grounding musical performance harmonically and rhythmically. In many respects they approach new hybrid developments through the lens of practices seen as part of a jazz bass tradition they learnt in, as they perform these new styles alongside the time honoured forms of jazz. The popularity of cross- cultural and hybrid projects on the local and international jazz scene means they have relevant impacts on the musical and social practices of bass players. One of the overarching issues dealt with here is how contemporary double bass players select the practices, in particular improvisatory approaches, that they use both inside and outside jazz.
4.1 How participants view the bass role and ensemble organisation
In the bass accompanying role, a need to be musically creative is balanced by a need to serve a larger project, be that embodied in the physical presence of a band leader with specific stylistic preferences or in broader cultural ideals and aesthetic
94 preferences that influence the practices of musicians. As Thomas Botting remarks ‘You should definitely be aware of what every note is going to be doing or feeling the music, and that could be anything depending on the situation. So it has to serve the music primarily I think.’ (2014, personal communication). He continues ‘I just think that everything serves the melody. Basically I think music has to be heard by people and in the world’s population melody is the main thing’ (2014, personal communication). While Botting’s remarks reflect a particular perspective partly influenced by the preferences and vernacular of contemporary popular music in terms of how the bass ‘serves the melody’, the sentiment of his comments is largely congruent with perspectives of the bass accompaniment role in a variety of jazz contexts, including those of prominent bass players in the New York scene and the literature presented in Chapter Three (Monson 1996, 29-43). But they are also refashioned without reference to jazz tradition and therefore not bound solely to a traditional performance context.
Participants’ views of the bass role in ensembles are generally reflective of the academic perspectives presented in Chapter Three and demonstrate the enduring significance of the established bass role to contemporary performance practice. Brendan Clarke discusses his perspective on the bass role below:
So I see the bass primarily as an accompanist and I see the bass note as the fundamental or foundation of the musical setting. I really dig that role and that’s where I’m coming from and I kind of say as a joke sometimes, people come up to me and say ‘oh you sounded good man’ and I say ‘you know roots and fifths man’ but I kind of mean it. And from there I think of it like the foundation of the building, the bass is the bottom. It keeps it from (falling over)… and from there anything can happen especially in a jazz situation and you’re hoping that it will happen. But for me as a bass player what I’m trying to do, where I’m coming from is firstly to be the keeper of the harmony, be really strong with the harmony, have a good sound and play with a really solid feel and groove. That’s what people want, I know that and that’s what people…, that’s why they get hired … because people know they can rely on me to take care of fundamentals (Clarke 2015, personal communication). Using the approach outlined by Clarke above is a necessity if a bass player is to be hired for a gig. As a bass player must be the ‘keeper of the harmony’ and provide a solid ‘feel and groove’ that is the foundations of the musical performance. In this sense both consistency and the rootedness of performance practice in the bass role are what stops performances falling over (Clarke 2015, personal communication). To demonstrate this to me Clarke used a 4-4 12 bar jazz blues instructing that to make the music ‘swing’ rhythmically requires the harmonic material to be delineated comfortably and in a controlled fashion in the rhythmic structures of the
95 piece. A common exercise used by double bassists to practise and learn repertoire is to perform bass lines to the metronome beating on 2 and 4, outlining the harmonic form of the tune while focusing on creating a sense of swing between the bass and the metronome. While demonstrating this exercise to me and then commenting on my performance of this exercise, esteemed Sydney bass player Brendan Clarke encouraged me to simplify and focus my approach to emphasise the swinging quality of the bass line when performing, using a swing two feel or walking bass line. This is one of the first tasks given to bassists, but is central to their continuing development and maintenance of their practices. This seemingly simple exercise holds in it one of the most central aspects of performing the accompanying role of the bass player. The amount of discipline that is required to make the rhythm swing should not be undersold; it is a task that must be nurtured through such practice rituals. Furthermore, much of what is then possible in performance in terms of interaction depends on the quality of this foundation and ‘groove’ and the responses of the other ensemble members.
The importance of groove also lies in that the degree of swinging quality in a bass player’s practices is a litmus test for their knowledge of the tradition and whether they have enough musical vocabulary to assert an individual voice, which is highly valued in jazz (Berliner 1994, 120-121). As a result, much improvisation for bass accompanists emanates from this instrumental or ensemble role, which has been delineated over time by jazz performance contexts, pedagogy and its relationship to bass player’s listening. In Clarke’s view and that of many others everything that is played by the bass player including solos has to make the music swing: it does not swing of its own volition and working within these structures is one of the primary creative opportunities of accompanying as a bass player (Clarke 2015, personal communication).
The role that Clarke discusses is strongly related to perceptions of ‘time’ and the player’s ability to work with rhythm using appropriate practices in order to communicate it. Solis has referred to musicians using the term ‘time’ to describe metric subdivisions, specific rhythmic accompaniment patterns and the ‘subtle ways a musician may play with the basic tempo, phrasing ahead of, in the centre of, or behind the beat in order to create shadings of feeling.’ (2002, 87). Solis also argues that having ‘solid feeling for time’ leads to a player being afforded a particular
96 esteem (2002, 88). A rhythm section’s good sense of time is a communal act, but it is also one that requires negotiation of different preferences of rhythmic placement in performance by and between individuals who are not always in concert (Solis 2002, 88 & Berliner 1994, 349-350). Playing authentically with a good sense of time sometimes means acceding to the preferences of others in the ensemble, most obviously the ensemble leader.
The bass role, while augmented by new practices and materials, remains heavily indebted to prominent bass accompanists of the past. This is evidenced by the listening preferences of players like Brendan Clarke who cites Charles Mingus, Ray Brown, Paul Chambers and Ron Carter as influences and Philip Rex who cites Brown, Mingus and Carter as his most prominent influences on the instrument. This is partly indebted to a conception of the jazz tradition as emanating from the practices of prominent 1950s and 60s American performers like those cited above, many of whom worked in the music’s reified capital New York (Rex 2015, personal communication). These are the models of bass playing accompaniment that tertiary courses and private double bass teachers often suggest to their students because of the way in which they clearly communicate harmonic and rhythmic form with excellent ‘time’ (Solis 2002, 87).
Therefore, to play the role of the bass with reference to the jazz tradition it follows that one must draw on and emulate aspects of their approach, but not copy. Copying is still perceived in much the sense that Berliner has described it, as an amateur behaviour (Berliner 1994, 120-121) and while transcription is important to bass players it is secondary to the importance placed on learning to accompany. Being able to copy a bass line is not given great importance in part because the bass line must be heard to respond sympathetically to the events that go on around it, particularly those from the head melody and soloist.
The influence of teachers also goes to the aesthetic preferences of performers, particularly as they emerge from tertiary institutions. Double bass is often the preferred instructional medium however, courses encourage and advise students to play both instruments so that they may access work outside jazz. Double bass is often described as necessary to get jazz gigs despite the mechanical reality that the electric bass can perform the same role. Kate Pass began her degree in jazz
97 performance on electric bass but as a requirement had to switch to double bass after the first year. In her opinion this was in her best interests as it would make her ‘as versatile as possible’ as a bass player (Pass 2015, personal Communication). It is interesting to note that Pass gets more gigs on double bass than electric in jazz and it would not be unreasonable to assume that the acoustic instrument evokes far more historical and cultural authenticity for musicians and audiences alike.
The type of ensemble and its size may also dictate the way the bassists will play; for instance, larger ensembles often involve greater arrangement. Regardless of the repertoire, larger ensembles leave less space for the bass player to interact melodically with other ensemble members. Jessica Dunn’s bass playing with the cross-cultural Sirens Big Band requires her to maintain a firm eye on the rhythmic and harmonic structures with the aid of written parts, in order to support the horn arrangements. The room afforded the bass in small ensembles is absent and the responsibility for ensuring the collective goals of playing together often requires playing simpler lines in a robust and more audible fashion.
In smaller ensembles bass players may be able to be more interactive and melodic but this is mediated by the traditions, aesthetics and preferences of ensemble members. In the jazz performance context the bass player must display musical adeptness particularly through groove, but it is not the dominant or most prominent source of musical material for listeners. This dynamic is summed up best by the remarks of Phillip Rex in relation to the highly interactive Bill Evans Trio with Scott LaFaro on bass.
I don’t like the role of the bass so much (in Evans’ trio) I just wanna hear Bill Evans play and what he does is enough. I don’t need much bass behind it to listen to him just play, I used to listen to those vanguard sessions a bit, the live ones with Scott LaFaro and after a while I was like ‘I’m sick of the bass playing all the time and going up in thumb position and playing a counter melody all the way through’. But it is a great trio and they do work really well together and it’s three musicians that I really like. ( 2015, Personal communication) Rex’s position here is interesting in that Evans’ trio is influential and its aesthetic audible in the playing of groups like the Jex Saarelaht Trio in which Rex plays. Rex’s playing is itself interactive but generally restricted to lower frequencies and sparser textures than LaFaro’s, reflecting his comments. Rex’s rhetorical argument should not obscure the general esteem in which he and other bass players hold LaFaro for his virtuosity and musicality, and because of the generous space he was
98 afforded in Bill Evans’ Trio. Clarke recasts it in a different light; while he enjoys the playing of LaFaro he feels that in order to perform the accompanying role he needs to ‘take care of business’ outlining the harmony and providing a solid groove (Clarke 2015, personal communication).
Rex and Clarke’s comments show that freelance bass players are highly aware that projecting the bass as a melodic feature of musical performances is not always appropriate, but the level of appropriateness is associated with the musical taste of performers and audience which the freelance bass player must constantly assess. As a result, root notes played on the downbeat remain fundamental to performance practices (Clarke 2015, personal communication and Rex 2015, personal communication) in walking bass, bossa nova or any number of styles subsumed in jazz.
Being able to discern the sometimes subtle stylistic differences, an aspect of the ability to differentiate practices for different contexts of performance, is necessary to ensure the employment prospects of the freelance double bass player. A bass player’s earlier learning processes are essential in being able to glean from an ensemble’s repertoire and style the approaches and aesthetics of bass playing that are appropriate. Furthermore, knowing when to play less or more, when to interact or just play roots and fifths and how to adjust technically to these possibly subtle shifts in demand are an accompanying practice that helps to ensure job security, but is also reflective of a creative cosmopolitan approach around learning.
An important skill of accompanying bassists is that they often choose not to display aspects of their facility on the instrument, in order to more appropriately support the ensemble’s music. Rex’s approach on Jex Saarelaht’s ballad ‘Ivory Cultery’, shows how bassists may subtly vary fundamental technique to achieve this. The use of a softer pizzicato attack on the ballad ‘Ivory Cutlery’ contrasts with Rex’s firmer attack on the rhythmically energetic ‘5-19’Liminal in a metre of seven (2014). This practical approach demonstrates a much broader skill to playing the bass in which Rex is driven by being contextually appropriate to the musical ensemble he is playing with. Rex says of his contextually driven approach to performance:
99 otherwise I don’t see the point in playing music if you weren’t gonna do that, unless you’re purposely going outside of that …, as a device or a statement. But as a bass player that’s kind of what you end up doing a lot of the time otherwise you don’t work, and end up not playing with other people and become a solo artist. (Rex 2015, personal communication)
While Rex is quite jovial about the prospect of being a solo artist, the idea of a bass player who cannot play with others and performs alone, is actually a social negative in this context and taken to its extreme it would mean a peripheral status in jazz. Alternatively, it would mean not being able to work or working sporadically, due to a perceived lack of mastery of the bass’s primary musical role and purpose. This role is in fact a desirable positive role in the scene despite its restrictions.
Rex’s playing on the ballad ‘Ivory Cutlery’ provides an interesting insight into this mindset as he straddles a musical aesthetic that adheres to the fundamental bass role but is also interactive with the piano solo at various points. He plays a counter-melodic style bass line but still refers to the root at the beginning of these lines to ground it in the bass role. An example of this approach appears in the excerpt transcribed below.
Example 4. ‘Ivory Cutlery’, Liminal (2014). Bass line and piano interaction excerpt. 00:01:22-00:01:33 Transcription. Audio Example 4. Track 4. Jex Saarelaht Trio. 2014b. ‘Ivory Cutlery’, on Liminal. Melbourne: Jazzahead.
The nature of the line is interactive because of this melodic quality and goes beyond mere root-tonic function, setting up the phrase in the first bar, shown with a fill, and then playing in an almost polyphonic way. Rex dissuades from viewing it this way in favour of a perspective from his experience of the accompanying bass role.
100 Discussing this excerpt, Rex had the following to say in relation to the role of the bass and musical interaction.
Yeah I suppose so I’m playing a bass line but it’s, you know there’s points where I’m outlining the form a bit, so at the end of a certain section or as we go into a new phrase I might play a fill or maybe something a little busier than my regular playing, although in the actual moment I'm not really "thinking" so much at all about what I'm playing, I’m just playing the song and feeling where it’s going and um there’s a sense …
BP: there’s a sense of forward momentum…
PR: and I’m not thinking about what, I’m just making sure I’m making the changes so I’m playing root notes pretty much all the time on the down beats and then creating a musical accompaniment to, (pause) because this is a piano solo. In a way it’s no different to what Ray Brown did his whole career which was very much about playing a focused melodic bass line behind what was going on with some fills and stuff and some kind of embellishments in there. Because it’s a trio like that and there is space I can do a few things but I don’t want to overdo it I suppose. My natural instinct is to not go and fill all the space, but just let things breathe a little bit. But pretty much the focus is to create a bed which something can work on. Like when you listen to it the first time I think I was successful because I wasn’t even listening to myself I was listening to the piano. So I suppose a person might be drawn to the bass at certain parts but most of the time it is the piano solo with some interplay with other instruments so that it’s successful in that way and with what the drummer’s doing, with what Niko’s doing as well. (Rex 2015, personal communication)
In Rex’s statements he illuminates his thinking on what good bass playing sounds like even as he professes that no thought process is behind his approach to accompanying, in the moment of performance. Qualities such as a ‘melodic bass line behind ... with some fills and ...embellishments in there’ are tied up in a history of listening to Ray Brown and suggest good bass accompanying goes beyond the merely functional but does not stray into the soloist’s realm (Rex 2015, personal communication). The bass remains underneath in ensemble hierarchy and generally below the pitch of the melodic material, a secondary source of continual melodic information. The more there is space available the more this material may come out, but with the understanding that a bass player must ‘just let things breathe a little bit’ (Rex 2015, personal communication).
For those who take up the bass accompanist role, the musical function of the bass gives those who play a clear role and a social and musical purpose for being hired. For Clarke, playing in an ensemble is much more fulfilling than performing on his own even though that too can be enjoyable. ‘I really enjoy doing that (solo improvising) but essentially nothing beats playing with a band, playing with a great drummer… Great players, that’s the buzz.’ (Clarke 2015, personal communication).
101 The rhetorical positioning is derived partly from the centrality of ensemble performances as the activity of primary social and musical significance for jazz musicians. Interpersonal musical social interaction in part affects a sense of social cohesion: a common creative purpose that binds groups of musicians who are largely connected by the affinity of listening and performing jazz in Australia. The establishment of long term musical relationships locally, as well as the direct communication of musical preferences for different types of bass playing, allows the player to be attuned to different preferences of different players by adjusting his/her use of rhythmic, harmonic and melodic devices.
Yeah some people are really kind of specific and they might go, ‘Yeah I want you to play a two feel here’ or I know certain people go ‘I want lots of root notes man …’ where as some people you can get away with a lot more and, some people are very specific and some people are not and they’ll just leave it up to you completely, and you can kind of tell, I reckon, straight away you know as soon as you hear the music … you can kind of hear where they’re coming from, if they’re playing standards in a really bebop kind of way you know you’re expected to try and play like Paul Chambers in a way, but if they’re playing, if they’re sounding like a modern 2015 New York saxophone trio then that’s a different thing again…, I never think I’m going to try and play like Paul Chambers here I don’t think like that and I think a lot of it is intuitive and it’s experience, that you kind of get an idea of what the parameters (are)… (Clarke 2015 personal communication)
The communication of these preferences both limits and directs the ways in which bass players can play and explore the role of the instrument. For instance requests for root notes and fifths on the first beat of each bar will mean that a bass player will avoid inversions of chords when building a walking bass line. The aural perception of elements of the bebop language in the soloists might lead to a bass line which is both rhythmically and harmonically supportive in the style of players like Chambers.
The social component of the bass role also revolves around the ability of the musicians to be reliable and to support the other musicians in the ensemble, particularly the leader. This is perhaps most overt where a leader is from another locality coming to play with a group of musicians that he/she does not know. Musicians such as Clarke feel it is incumbent on the bass player to be professional, prepared in advance and to make the visiting musician comfortable. This is part of the social contract when they are booked for a gig, which in the context of accompanying overseas leaders has the added component of making the leader feel welcome. But this also extends to working with local musicians who Clarke says
102 are looking for similar things, suggesting some sense of mobility in the qualities and characteristics of a bass player jazz musicians are looking for.
Absolutely, it’s all about preparation whether you’re playing with someone from overseas, you know practising your instrument. A lot of the things that I practise now, you know what I was saying before what I was showing you those sorts of things but realising now is that I practise the music that I’m going to be playing on a gig. That’s what I do now. If I’ve got a gig with so and so. You know not a wedding (laughs) but if I’m playing someone’s original music I’ll have a look at it. Whereas when I was younger I probably didn’t do it so much, I think I was a bit more arrogant and didn’t care so much. But now especially I want to be prepared and I want to feel comfortable and make them feel comfortable. So, that is my job, that’s what you’re getting paid to do, be prepared. Rufus Reid talked about that when I had a lesson with him, he said you got to be like a boxer, you know how a boxer, by the time he gets into the ring he’s already sweating. He said ‘you gotta be like that you gotta be prepared, ready’. So that’s what I reckon man, across the board. That’s why people are gonna book you because they know they can rely on you. (Clarke 2015, personal communication)
The ability to carry out this task with overseas musicians is enhanced by the technological ability to easily obtain sheet music and recordings to practise with via email and recording files. Despite the assistance of technological advances, the advantages of performing with local musicians are the proximity and capability to observe and experience the playing of those they are accompanying beforehand. This enables the bassist to understand the employer’s music in relation to other performers and their preferences for different types of bass playing. To a certain extent, gossip can also influence understanding of the musicians the bassist is accompanying or alternatively the bassist’s suitability. Clarke is adamant that a conscious embrace of skills of fluidity, adaptability and preparation are essential to the success of the bass accompanist’s experience.
I think that’s part of the fun to be fluid and adaptable and different people are going to make you play differently that’s the whole gig I reckon. That’s jazz man (laughs), that’s the fun of it you know that every gig … I’m not just playing in one band all the time, which is cool whatever rock bands and stuff. But, I play with different people, and just like different personalities bounce off each other differently, same musically. I find I can do different things with different people I’ll play different styles, I’ll play different solos and I’ll definitely play the bass line differently, I might use different rhythmic devices depending on the drummer I play with, and you learn what you can do with certain people, when you’ve been doing it for a while and when you’ve been doing it with a lot of (people) …, you know I’ve been in the Sydney scene a while now and I’ve played with most of the players, so you know what you can do with different people. So yeah I really love it man it’s part of the fun, it’s really good. (Clarke 2015, personal communication)
While this may be the case musically, performing with overseas artists does lend a certain cultural capital to the musician’s playing and position. Musicians are keen to
103 acknowledge that they have accompanied these artists, listing them in biographies and mentioning or recounting the experience to students and colleagues, furthering their association to the tradition, reputation and access to further employment opportunities.
4.2 Defining improvisation in the role of the bass accompanist
Definitions of improvisation and the ensemble role of bass accompaniment have a complex discursive and practical relationship. This is an issue embedded in broader discussions about the functions and capabilities of improvisation as both a musical and social phenomenon discussed earlier. The conception of improvisation by double bass accompanists is focused on its practical applications in musical performance. However, it is notable that these perspectives on musical improvisation see it as a tangible everyday activity used by musicians. Notions of freedom of expression, improvisation as a catalyst for social change and improvisation as a broadly universal signifier of these two social practices are difficult to observe in the musical practices used by bass players studied here. Improvisation is about the here and now of performance and a practical reality of negotiating the practices and rules of jazz performance, and as outlined above, these practices and rules are particularly restrictive of bassists as accompanists.
Players are far more likely to take models of bass lines as illustrated by Berliner (1994, 607-616) and build on them through rhythmic and melodic variation. I assert that bass performance practice can be seen to contradict much of the orthodoxy that dominates understanding of musical improvisation, by being simultaneously disciplined and prepared, but in the moment and responsive. This type of improvisation does not receive the attention of its frontline counterpart because of its location hidden in the foundations of musical performance. A notable exception to this lack of attention is found in Monson’s Saying Something (1996), but here the role of bass accompaniment in the ensemble and what the musical role of the bass player reflects about social organisation is a secondary focus after ensemble interaction. Monson’s investigation should be extended to those musics subsumed into jazz, so as to deal with the hybrid performance contexts that bass players have increasingly found themselves in, given the trend of overtly cross-
104 cultural musical projects amongst jazz musicians and with non-jazz musicians since the 1950s and 1960s.
The notion that they are improvisers remains a driving force in the careers of double bass players studied in this research, something that they associate with their works’ artistic value even in more mundane musical performances (Rex 2015, personal communication November). Clarke is clear that improvisation is a central component of the freelance bass accompanist’s role:
Oh yeah it’s definitely improvised because even though I talked about there’s a role of the bass and root notes but once that’s established there’s a lot you can do within it and for me it … it’s all improvised. Playing a walking bass line is improvised. But a lot of it depends on who you’re playing with. I like things that swing, but I like it to be open I like the music to be able to go in more than one direction. I don’t like being confined stylistically particularly. Even though some of the things, I do what’s required of course, again it all comes down to who you’re playing with and I think that’s part of what I think the best musicians are adaptable in that situation. So you’re an improviser, you have to be an improviser because you have to adapt to whatever musical environment you’re in. So, yeah, absolutely. (Clarke 2015, personal communication) While improvisation is primarily a musical phenomenon for Clarke, it is clear that the idea does take on a greater role in social practice by providing a means to negotiate musical-interpersonal relationships during the performance. Being adaptable becomes part of an overarching ideology that governs the work and experience of the jazz bass player when accompanying and needing to fit into an ensemble hierarchy from the soloist/bandleader down. Improvisation in this context is a practical tool used to negotiate musical ensembles and social organisation, not a tool for social rebellion. Musical and interpersonal flexibility and adaptability are therefore essential to the bass role both musically and socially, as long as the fundamentals of rhythm and harmony are taken care of.
But this improvisation is also tied into the musician’s knowledge of what is being performed. To know the tune, is to be able to use its structures and materials effectively in improvisation in a refined and crafted way, whatever parameters are set by direct communication or by the perception of musical style in an ensemble. The musician, upon hearing the group, can then relate the repertoire and the style the ensemble is playing to models of bass playing, often intuitively to dealing with fast paced performance decisions. The manner of the group may suggest the style of a particular bass player from jazz history like Paul Chambers or Charles Mingus who they have studied or listened to. Upon beginning playing they may also realise
105 that the ensemble doesn’t want to play in a particular way and must therefore confine their playing to particular approaches. This is often the case when bass players realise that like drummers in this context they may only be wanted to play ‘time’ rather than to play with time or harmony (Swanton 2014a, personal communication & Solis 2002, 87-88).
This is a skill dependent on prior knowledge of the aesthetics of various styles from bebop to jazz fusion and popular song and allows for two particular outcomes of significant reward. Firstly, improvisation allows for the navigation of potentially difficult performance contexts through a mixture of preparation and flexibility and secondly, results in the achievement of a desired, authentic and crafted creative musical output albeit within a context where the bass player is not fully in control of their own approach and sound. This in turn adds to one’s personal performance practice abilities and socially is advantageous for a player’s reputation as a good bass player (Botting 2014, personal communication & Clarke 2015, personal communication).
Musical improvisation in this context is also directly linked to prior preparation for the performance. Preparation and practice while encompassing written parts, is also devoted to learning the rhythmic, harmonic and melodic structures and materials that will allow for effective improvisation in the ascertained style. In order to book them, the leader must be able to rely on the bass player to use this knowledge to produce authentic musical performances which feature the use of improvisation in the style and on the repertoire designated by the leader, with good time keeping skills. This is a fairly widespread phenomenon in global jazz performance contexts: Solis has remarked that ‘Given the potential for bad time to do “irreparable damage to a performance it is not surprising that musicians would hold in particular esteem those who could be relied on to play with a solid feeling of time.’ (Solis 2002, 87-88).
This practice and social contract assumes that bass players are familiar with the role of the instrument in the ensemble but also with diverse stylistic vernaculars of improvisation in jazz (and beyond). But the deployment of them can be very much up to the creativity and preferences of the bass player in question and what comes to mind in the course of performance: a point particularly noticeable in
106 soloing (Rex 2015, personal communication). When discussing the use of blues inflections in his introductory solo on the live Jex Saarelaht album Liminal performance of ‘5-19’, Philip Rex referred to how this solo drew on the bluesy language of jazz and his liking of Mingus, who exemplifies this practice on the bass. However, this discussion also inspired him to compare why he had chosen to play this on this tune and not on the ballad ‘Ivory Cutlery’ which I previously discussed. When first asked about the blues inflections after listening to the track Rex replied ‘It’s just a jazz thing I suppose.’ (Rex 2015, personal communication). He implied that it is intrinsic to the language of jazz improvisation, a statement which holds true, but the choice of its use here and to such an extent remained a topic of interest for me and further discussion ensued. This revealed Rex’s musical preference for Mingus and Brown, as opposed to players like LaFaro, and its perhaps subconscious role in influencing the direction of musical improvisation because of what he perceives to be the strength in Mingus’s playing.
PR: It’s just a jazz thing I suppose.
BP: Very much moving up to the pitch and a bit off. (Gesticulates)
PR: Yeah it’s just inflections that are just part of the language or have informed part of my playing which I might not have. It’s a good point I suppose why I don’t use, I mean I could use more of that stuff in the ballad and it would be totally appropriate but maybe my approach to the ballad is there’s less sliding and moving around. But when you think about it that would work fine so I don’t think it’s probably mutually exclusive. I can’t remember what that tune is that …
BP: 5-19
PR: Oh yeah ok that’s like, it’s an open intro I think and I was kind of, it ended up, because we played that for a couple of years off and on, sporadically. I think my approach was a little bit ‘Mingussy’ on the opening of that. That was probably where I started not playing his lines but it’s just that blues approach which I‘ve always had in my playing particularly on that one I went more to Mingus’ kind of attack and his …
BP: That was my initial reaction is that it had a lot of that quality. I didn’t want to say that to pre-empt what your thoughts were, but I immediately thought of that particular sound.
PR: Because he does intros like that and I don’t know, it’s just easy to be influenced by. If someone says open bass intro on this it’s kind of a pedal-ly kind of groove when it comes in from memory,… I can’t even remember how it goes actually but yeah it just felt like that was the way … (Rex 2015, personal communication) Rex can be heard on this solo introduction to ‘5-19’ using a pentatonic set to outline an F minor tonality in the example over the page. The performance is not strictly in time however, there is an underlying pulse of 12-8 in the phrases with what are effectively brief pauses on the tonic between phrases. Eventually the introductory solo moves into a stricter feel of 12-8.
107 Example 5. ‘5-19’, Liminal (2014). Bass solo intro blues phrase excerpt. 00:00:00-00:00:12 Transcription. Audio Example 5. Track 5. Jex Saarelaht Trio. 2014a. ‘5-19’, on Liminal. Melbourne: Jazzahead.
Significantly he uses a technique of gradually sliding and plucking the note between Bb and B but never quite reaching B shown in bar two above. This emphasises a blue note quality similar to Mingus’ improvising practices when soloing such as his intro to ‘So Long Eric’ from the Cornell 1964 recording. Mingus even comments while playing the intro solo, ‘This is blue all the way’ (2007).
Rex later referred to these players Mingus and Brown as displaying some of the ‘strongest’ playing on the bass. His description reinforces the notion of the bass player as occupying a role as the foundation or support of the musical ensemble. But again he refers to a mixture of ‘time’ and stylistic knowledge that helps a player play in ways seen to be culturally authentic.
Saarelaht’s trio has been a long term musical project that Rex has been part of and is dependent on the combination of the three musical voices of Saarelaht on piano, Rex on bass and Niko Schauble on drums, who work to achieve a collective musical goal. Performing originals by Saarelaht and lesser known composers such as Herbie Nichols gives the group its own unique aesthetic and repertoire (Rex 2015, personal communication). This creative outlook and the interpersonal social and musical connection between the players are amongst the main reasons Rex continues to perform with the group (Rex 2015, personal communication). These encourage Rex to focus on musical outcomes beyond playing the chart that is given to him.
4.3 New trajectories on firm foundations
Of course these practices are not stagnant and constantly evolve amongst double bass players as they incorporate different styles and thinking into their performance
108 practices. Certainly some younger contemporaries of Clarke and Rex, like Thomas Botting show the influence of popular music and free improvisation on the way in which improvisation is discussed. As for Clarke and Rex, jazz language is the source of much of Botting’s practice, but his language reflects a need to make improvisation a conceptually mobile practice to deal with performance contexts. Botting embraces elements of the ideology surrounding free improvisation and the aesthetics of local free improvisation groups such as Drub, while also acknowledging its links to the jazz tradition (2014, personal communication).
Basically for me getting to improvisation and why I do it. I’ve always been really interested in creating music by… and that’s going back to pretty much when I started … and the thing that got me into jazz and improvised music was the fact that these guys were creating, were composing on the spot. That was how I sort of see improvisation at its highest level. There are certainly varying degrees of how successful that is and there are certain jazz improvisers that I don’t get into at all. As with any kind of music when it’s at its best it’s just kind of spontaneous creation of composition together or by yourself. The best moments I’ve ever seen have been a few musicians creating stuff together and you just have these moments of clear group composition that come together. At the weekend at Wang (Wangaratta Jazz Festival) probably the best thing I saw all weekend was Drub, a band, Scott Tinkler, Carl Dewhurst and Simon Barker just free improvising and it sounded like they were composing, it was insane. It was just like that’s what I’m trying to get to, that’s we’re I want to try and get at, whether it’s in a completely improvised setting or not. Just trying to get those moments of sheer composition in improvised settings. (Botting 2014, personal communication). Again like Clarke and Rex, Botting’s use of improvisation in performance is dictated by the ensemble he is playing in and the style of music they are performing. So while there might be an ideological preference for one approach to improvisation as discussed in Botting’s comments below the reality of the demands on bass player and the ability to deal with the performance setting at hand.
I always want to have freedom but being the bass player definitely I think is an important function for serving the music, as well as possible and if you’re playing in a standards band and the guys are like playing in the 50s or 60s style, I personally don’t think it’s going to serve the music particularly well if you’re going to start playing stuff that goes really against that. Like there’s certainly room for interpretation of certain things in those situations but… (Botting 2014, personal communication). Like Clarke much of the determination about what is appropriate to play for Botting is dictated by the people he is playing with. However for Botting extra emphasis is placed on the interpersonal nature of the ensemble and he is particularly interested in collective groups he plays in such as Tiny Hearts (2014, personal communication). Focusing on the interpersonal nature of the ensemble draws attention to the possibilities and limitations of playing with certain people and how their influences may impact on the music performed. The ensemble is also reliant
109 on a shared experience of performing jazz and a competency/confidence with improvisation. But still a bass player must know their role.
I mean, we all have in this sort of jazz world, have this background this similar vocabulary and listening experiences from learning the history. But then I think the beauty of modern improvised music is that you can take, like everyone’s particular influences and personalities and bring them into the setting where you can all react to those and certainly I think not all of the time but a lot of the time being good friends helps. Hanging out helps and that gives you the freedom to do what you want and if you know those guys are your mates and you know they have the musical abilities to handle any situation then you can sort of play what you hear without any kind of distractions or … (Botting 2014, personal communication) It is significant that Botting still perceives the bass as occupying a particular sonic space and musical role as a foundation on which the musical performance’s structure is built, even though he seems to desire to move beyond jazz structures. His desire for the freedom to move between roles or play the instrument differently does not necessarily mean leaving the bass role so significant to jazz unoccupied. Instead it straddles both.
Well in those situations basically I think I’ll put it into context of this one band I’m in Tiny Hearts because that’s probably the most open I get to play and in that band the roles and stuff can shift unexpectedly. Like always, the bass is the bottom of the band that’s how I sort of approach it, that’s where I prefer to hear it. But within that context, we all know these tunes really well and we know each other really well. So if I want to take the melody somewhere it hasn’t been discussed beforehand I know I can do that and I have the freedom to do that and everyone else is kind of, will adjust… and go with that and react accordingly. (Botting 2014, personal communication). Botting occupies a rather nuanced position as a double bass player. He is strongly influenced by free improvisation and the discursive practices around the music described by Bailey as non-idiomatic improvisation (1992, ix-xxi). However, he has learnt from local influences such as bass player Alex Boneham who emphasises a sparse, firm bass sound, high action and supportive accompanying practices that have a stronger relationship to the jazz tradition. Botting says his association with Boneham got him ‘just into better bass playing’ in reference to his firm and acoustic sound quality (2014, personal communication). Botting credits a lesson with Boneham as changing the way he approached the instrument, physically changing his string height and aspiring to a more rhythmic and harmonic approach to the double bass associated with notions of the foundation. Therefore, his approach involves a confluence of musical ideas and practices which move across perceived musical spaces in search of melody and for ‘spontaneous composition’ (2014, personal communication). Botting maintains a relationship to the culturally
110 authentic ‘bass role’ but looks to extend it for creative purposes emphasising personal artistry within collective and collaborative ensemble performance. In this sense the hybrid nature of the music-making is discursively heightened as part of the improvisational approach even though the sound of individual performance contexts may not reflect this, the broader range of music-making in his career provides some evidence of this.
4.4 The bass role and improvisation across cultures
Bass accompanying is also controlled by methods of style and social organisation in cross-cultural collaborations. This is an issue which can prove difficult to analyse in a context where perceived traditions and social codes are understood to be ambiguous and in some cases completely suspended. The performance processes involved in cross-cultural collaborations and intercultural music-making have often been discussed in terms of negotiation (Stanyek 2004) or conversation (McNeil 2007). It is evident from this research project that the degree of improvisational control over the bass role in these collaborations is derived from the parameters set by musicians, in particular the ensemble leader, and the purposes of musical project. The musicians who create the musical contexts that McNeil describes as conversational actively pursue this as part of the performance practice of the ensemble. Collaborations can also be more or less restricted in their use of improvisation dependent on the priorities of the musical style in which the musicians were trained and their interest in other styles. This can be seen in collaborations such as the Australian Art Orchestra with the South Indian ensemble Shruthi Laya where improvisation is central to the style, practices and identities of the AAO but is conceived of differently by Carnatic musicians as part of the process of exploring rāgam and tālam. Often different factors combine such as in the case of Kate Pass’s work with Tara Tiba, who aim to reach a transcultural and transnational audience but also have artistic/musical aims in carrying out the collaboration. The group combines Persian trained musicians Tiba and guitar and setar player Reza Rizai with jazz trained performers, Pass, saxophonist Laura Corney and drummer Alex Reid and performs versions of jazz standards and traditional Persian compositions. The varied purposes that might be encountered in a cross-cultural
111 musical project and their relationship to social structures such as musical communities, ethnic communities, governing bodies, educational institutions and others have an effect on the way that double bass players select their improvisational and performance practices.
Philip Rex and the Australian Art Orchestra
Philip Rex has become a prominent musician on the Melbourne Jazz scene over the past two decades. Rex is personally interested in groove based music in a range of genres, working as a jazz player with Jex Saarehlaht, Paul Grabowsky, The Australian Art Orchestra, Scott Tinkler and a host of others. He has also worked with significant popular artists such as Renee Geyer, funk, groove and soul ensembles, and tango, and has a parallel career as a techno producer leading the group DECOY. Rex has melded this project with his jazz and improvised interests including a commission from the AAO for its program King of Darkness which looked at Miles Davis and where the jazz legend may have headed with his music had he been alive now (Rex 2015, personal communication).
Rex’s involvement in cross-cultural collaborations came about through his involvement in the Australian Art Orchestra. The Australian Art Orchestra, whose name references the Art Ensemble of Chicago, was formed by Paul Grabowsky to perform new works which explored different cultures and media with ‘an emphasis on improvisation’ (AAO http://www.aao.com.au/about/ 2017). After initially having Rex performing on tuba alongside his former teacher Gary Costello on bass, the group began to use two basses until Costello’s passing. After initially performing the artistic director and founder’s music, particularly the Ringing the Bell Backwards program the AAO turned its attention to collaborations with other musical groups particularly across musical cultures. This began with the group’s collaboration with Carnatic music group Sruthi Laya Ensemble, led by Karaikudi R. Mani and the development of a long standing collaboration in which Rex played bass, recording two albums The Chennai Sessions: Into the Fire and Two Oceans. Rex has also been involved in the AAO’s musically and culturally significant collaborations with the Indigenous Australian Young Wagilak Group, recording albums Crossing Roper Bar Vol. 1 and 2 and with Ruby Hunter and Archie Roach.
112 Both collaborations are notable examples of jazz-trained musicians working cross- culturally in a collaborative framework in which a bass player is involved as an ensemble member/accompanist. While the politics of this project and its combination of Yolŋu song and free improvisation are significant in marking a specific local project with strong connections to indigeneity in hybrid performance, the role of the bass is still strongly connected to the foundational and accompaniment role it has in jazz. In the collaboration Rex predominantly used already established practices drawn from Ornette Coleman and Miles Davis’ groups that can accompany and at times interact with the Young Wagilak Group’s distinctive vocal tradition (Rex 2015, personal communication). The performance’s significance is closely tied to its social and political commentary which foregrounds the traditional vocal styles’ relevance to contemporary music rather than the development of new practice by double bass players.
Rex did not have involvement in the decision to collaborate with Sruthi Laya but was open to getting involved because Carnatic music is ‘such an amazing music’ with inspirational performers who have been ‘very influential’ (Rex 2015, personal communication). Rex is particularly interested in the opportunity it provided to ‘learn different rhythmic subdivisions’. Already aware of this collaboration and the esteem in which cross-cultural performers in Australia hold it I was keen to grasp his perspective on how this context effected what Rex did as an accompanying bass player and as a soloist when given the opportunity in this performance context. Rex’s rhythmic and melodic practices in this context are subject to a different relationship to percussion and to tonal organisation which is largely modal. The way in which Rex negotiates this performance context is particularly pertinent given that there are also a significant number of impacts on the bass caused by the ambiguity and changes to the social organisation of musicians at play when combining the often hierarchical context of Carnatic performance and the often unmentioned but very much present distribution of musical responsibilities that occur amongst jazz musicians in the rhythm section. This is made doubly significant given that Sruti Laya consists of instruments that would be primarily used for accompaniment, with Mani playing the mrdangam, which is traditionally the main accompanying instrument. In the following pages I will examine this in relation to an instance of duo soloist performance between Rex
113 and Ghatam player Garum Suresh on the piece Sacred Cow Tails composed by Sandy Evans, which appears on The Chennai Sessions (AAO & Sruthi Laya, 2008).
In the context of this cross-cultural collaboration it is interesting to see how practices and codes which govern the ways in which bass players improvise as accompanists and soloists in jazz are carried over into cross-cultural collaborations. In addition, the manner in which the musical practices of the double bass player are affected by the meeting of two different systems of musical and social organisation can be examined. Conversely we can also see how the accompanying roles of Carnatic music intersect with jazz. The traditional bass role, despite the removal of harmonically structured compositions remains fundamental to the ensemble, tonally and rhythmically carrying into the collaboration. Rex plays this groove transcribed in 4/4 during the opening of ‘Sacred Cow Tails’,
Example 6. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, The Chennai Sessions (2009). Bass line excerpt 00:00:00 Transcription. Audio Example 6. Track 6. Evans, Sandra. 2009. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, on Australian Art Orchestra and Karaikudi R. Mani. 2009. The Chennai Sessions. North Melbourne: Australian Art Orchestra Recordings.
and this line under the solos to begin with,
Example 7. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, The Chennai Sessions (2009). Bass line excerpt. 00:07:39 Transcription. Audio Example 6. Ibid.
adding embellishments as the solo develops. One could also speculate that some of the expectations of Carnatic accompanists are now in play for the bass player. The piece requires Rex to maintain and master korvais, rhythmic cadences from Carnatic music, and the ability to follow the intricacies of the soloist or match the subdivisions of soloists as is evident in Rex’s duo solo with ghatam player Garum
114 Saresh. Rex plays first, but the accompaniment from Suresh indicates he must maintain this level of rhythmic performance to support Suresh as much as Suresh supports him. This creates a performance context that demands a slightly different musical role from the bass player. On Sacred Cow Tails, Rex and Suresh engage in an extended interaction where they trade full cycles of Adi tālam as soloists (eight beats, represented as crotchets), then reducing to have a cycle each before reducing it further (Rex 2015, personal communication). The beginning of this exchange is represented over the page.
115 Example 8. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, The Chennai Sessions (2009). Bass and Ghatam improvised trading duet excerpt. 00:05:33 Transcription. Audio Example 6. Ibid.
116
Above we can see a short excerpt from 00:05:33 to 00:06:04 in which Rex seems to in effect lead this exchange, playing statements that Suresh then follows. However, Suresh’s rhythmic embellishments, often with triplets, at times suggest and influence the tone of the next phrase: such improvisation in duet is necessarily collaborative. However, the example above in some ways departs from the traditional following method of Ghatam accompaniment and helps to shape the solo; for example, bar four introduces the triplet figure used in bar five. The centrality of listening to this process demonstrates how Suresh in effect accompanies by responding to Rex with the musical information he introduces and then adds to it, while Rex develops his improvisation in light of Suresh’s contribution. With each player contributing new information but with reference to the melodic fragments of the bass, the codes of soloing when trading in jazz and accompanying in Carnatic music seem to find some common ground.
The rest of the percussion comes back in and then as the rhythms play Rex improvises over the top before the rest of the ensemble returns for the next section of the piece. Rex’s improvisation here is governed by his philosophy of contextually appropriate performance practices but also by the influence of Mani as the ultimate holder of Carnatic musical knowledge in this context. The underlying tonal and rhythmic structures of rāgam and tālam while transposed and simplified for a cross-cultural context are positioned above any form of jazz system of organisation in this context, evidenced by two comments Rex makes in regards to how the duet was organised prior to and during performance. First of all, Rex says:
I mean Mani would have structured that to an extent or he would have had the idea of…but you know just, I was flying by the seat of my pants. Trying to reduce the rhythm and there
117 would have been a structure of how we reduced. But what I was improvising was the actual notes and whatever I play. And I’m trying to keep it in the one key because that’s what works best. (Rex 2015, personal communication) This reveals the central role of Mani in the musical hierarchy. As the Guru of the Sruthi Laya Ensemble and teacher to many of the Australian collaborators, Mani holds an important sway over musical events as the most senior musician. His role here lends the performance cultural authenticity through his knowledge and authority in Carnatic music circles and his musical authority in the ensemble hierarchy. Toby Wren recounts similar hierarchical organisation when collaborating with Mani in his project Ultimate Cows in Brisbane (2014, 121-126). Mani, as the most senior musician, is responsible and has authority over musical performance despite Wren being the initiator of the project. This is a different social mechanism from jazz in which the initiator, the creator and artist, would have the decision- making role over performance, even with more senior musicians present; it would be their gig, so to speak. Wren says that ‘I was to organise the event, and he would ensure that what was performed on stage was at the highest level’ (2014, 122). The hierarchical relationship is also one which confers cultural authenticity and authority onto the performance at large.
Cultural authenticity is a major asset particularly when performers are not yet fully enculturated into the musical culture or the project is more overtly cross- cultural. Despite a music’s hybridity it must still be perceived as authentic on some level in order to carry with it artistic validity. In turn this lends Rex’s playing across cultures a cultural authenticity and a sense of some insider knowledge of Carnatic music while also regulating the form and style of the duo improvisation. This hierarchical social organisation seems to have filtered through to at least some of the musical structuring of this cross-cultural collaboration as it did in Wren’s.
Secondly Rex’s explanation of why he sticks quite heavily to the D Mixolydian centre reveals the overarching influence of Carnatic music organisation on the collaboration and the improvisation that occurs.
But so those rules can change of course. But if I was to play atonally and in a really jarring kind of way that would feel weird in the tune and um that kind of D (BP: Mixolydian) Mixolydian yeah, is kind of the vibe of the piece. Yeah a lot of it, we do whole concerts where it’s in D, they play in D a lot. It’s not like western music where we’re constantly changing keys and everything, … and they have a lot of scales like scales which are different on the way up then the way down and all that sort of thing. So those ragas, that mode doesn’t change a lot on their pieces. (Rex 2015, personal communication)
118 While Rex’s approach indicates an attempt to reflect the modal quality of the Carnatic musicians practices it does not necessarily emulate their use of the rāgam’s microtonal complexity. The presence of this jazz based approach is somewhat restricted by the need to pay respect to the codes of Indian classical music and master the rhythmic complexity of pre-determined korvai passages which are not negotiable in this performance context (Rex 2015, personal communication). This as Rex put it is ‘not a free blow’ (Rex 2015, personal communication). Hybridity changes and effects roles but does not fundamentally alter or reimagine the bass role of its own accord, rather in this case it augments it with responsibilities and a different language.
Nor are accompanying practices entirely the prerogative of the bass player, with the coordination of a large number of musicians in the collaborations, as well as the negotiation across musical hierarchies and different practices at play many of the bass lines are predetermined in this collaboration with Sruthi Laya. A different opportunity for improvisation is tempered by a more tightly scripted supportive role to provide the large ensemble with tonality and the right groove. There is, however, room for extemporisation and the expectation that pre-determined lines will be given embellishment by the player as the AAO’s organisational structure for performance is fundamentally based on a group of musicians chosen for their ability to improvise. These pre-composed lines serve to set the groove, tempo, tonality and rhythmic cycle.
Kate Pass and Tara Tiba
Pass’s involvement in Tiba’s group came as a result of meeting in the Middle Eastern jazz fusion ensemble Daramud and studying together at the West Australian Academy of Performing Arts (WAAPA) where they both studied jazz performance. The music the ensemble performs incorporates well known folk melodies from Persia, and surrounding countries and jazz standards such as ‘Autumn Leaves’ and ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ interpreted for a different audience. Pass is influenced by the work of Dave Holland in his collaboration with ‘ud player and composer Anouar Brahem, and Israeli born New York based jazz musician Avishai Cohen who utilises jazz style bass playing in the performance of repertoire based on
119 maqām from the Middle East. Pass’ involvement in cross-cultural music-making is informed by a cosmopolitan outlook on musical and social life, in which she feels that ‘exploring another culture is always a good thing’ and notions of the local are somewhat relative.
Yeah to me the Australian identity is experiencing other cultures so maybe that is the Australian sound a cross-cultural thing but I often feel a bit of awkwardness or a tension myself playing music from other cultures because it’s a bit like what do I know about this. I’m not from there what right do I have to study this music to say that I know about it when I don’t. However, there is a certain extent to which Pass expresses a cultural cringe, a concern that Anglo-Australians are lacking in culture. This is not in the sense necessarily that this makes the performances somehow inferior to European culture as is often discussed in relation to A.A. Phillips notion of cultural cringe (Curtis 2016, 90). Pass comments that she has no affinity for classical music, and reveals anxiety about both finding or identifying with a culture which can be called hers. This is a position that is perhaps reflexive of a postcolonial cosmopolitan desire to be culturally sensitive and proficient in interacting with those that are different from herself. The solution proposed by Pass does not resort to claims of a stereotypical Australian accent or assertions of a particular Australian aesthetic in music-making, but instead acknowledges the predominance of a multiplicity of cultural influences as the norm of musical and social experience. Pass’s musical identity is necessarily hybrid, but also hybrid by choice, first the selection of jazz and then involvement with a range of musics from western and non-western countries.
This is something that I thought about myself because we grow up listening to music from everywhere and it’s hard to separate, how can you separate all the music that you’ve heard from other countries from just living in Australia. (Pass 2015, personal communication) To a certain extent Pass’ comment shows the degree to which hybrid cultural practice is normalised in Australian music. But her purposeful embrace of different musical practices and attempts to learn those of others position her music-making actively as cosmopolitan.
Pass is concerned with being both ethical and authentic, but this is a multifaceted authenticity. As there is a need to perform music in a way that displays the sound and aesthetics of different styles, in this case jazz and Persian radif. The radif refers to the repertoire ‘of melodies and melodic ideas that form the basis of improvisation’ in Persian classical music and includes ‘melodic ornamentation and
120 dynamic and rhythmic nuances’ that are used to explore the characteristics of the mode or ‘gúshe’ from the dastgáh system (Caton 2002, 129-135). Learning this is a complex and long term proposition as the radif requires cultural knowledge related to improvisation which is different from and sometimes contradictory to the practices of double bass players when improvising jazz. Nevertheless, Pass attempts to utilise and adopt both Persian and jazz practices and aesthetics in her work with Tara Tiba. There is the need to establish an individual approach which is different enough from other jazz players and radif to maintain social standing amongst the jazz scene which is the source of much of Pass’ work, where adept cultural knowledge must go alongside attempts at developing an individual voice.
In the context of Tara Tiba’s group, Pass plays a predominantly accompanying role that involves various degrees of improvisation and occasional solo opportunities. The predominant feature improvisers, however, are Tiba and saxophonist, Laura Corney. Pass’s playing is closely linked to the bass role discussed in the last chapter. She calls on ideas of negotiation in much the way that Stanyek has theorised of the intercultural encounter as the process inherent in determining how she will play in the ensemble (2004, 87-96). Pass also discusses that in playing jazz and collaborating with Persian musicians there is a sense of freedom (Pass 2015, personal communication). However, this sense of performance freedom has limitations; Pass describes her music-making process as being closely linked to the bass role, she says that ‘being a bass player is like being a side person’ and it is hard to remove the supportive bass function aspect of performance practice even when taking a feature solo (Pass 2015, personal communication). She also speaks of how the bass role established in jazz is brought over into the collaboration citing it as a universal. This is an interesting position that needs to be broken down further. Pass’ language of ‘freedom’ reflects one of the common ways in which improvisation in music across or on the periphery of musical styles is discussed. However, the aesthetics and practices of these styles are still influenced by traditions of accompanying in jazz drawn from previous training, education, artistic interests, but the role of these factors is largely under discussed in the nature of the collaboration’s music and social organisation.
The cross-cultural situation presents some unique issues to overcome in selecting the appropriate ways to construct bass lines. Persian classical music’s use
121 of radif as an overarching guide to structure does not necessarily fit well with the structure of western harmony and its specific jazz usages.19 Pass’s initial work with Tiba in the group Daramud involved her playing melodies in unison with the other instruments, an approach she is very interested in learning (Pass 2015, personal communication). Contrastingly, Tara Tiba does not focus on heterophony and Pass plays bass lines as a rhythmic and harmonic foundation. This presents a unique challenge as the group harmonises a Persian repertoire, without chord progressions, built of the un-tempered and micro-tonally based divisions of intervals in maqãms that form the basis of the radif. The repertoire is not built around harmonic progressions and so Pass must construct bass lines which support just one mode. Pass in her 2013 Honours thesis discusses her approach as taking a more linear trajectory to bass line construction (Pass 2013). This is a practice which I would argue supports tonal and rhythmic movement and can imply harmonic movement but avoids making it the dominant structuring force in the relationship between temporal and spatial organisation of the music. Pass comments that the approach taken to the organisation of bass lines removes the tension and release provided by harmony (Pass 2013 & Pass 2015, personal communication).
For the bass player in this context the negotiation is about bringing jazz and Persian music together but it is also about negotiating space within the ensemble’s hierarchy. Tiba’s naming of the ensemble leaves the impression that this is her ensemble and that certain cultural and musical emphasis will be present in the group’s performances through the combination of defining ‘authentic’ Persian sounds with western styles. Pass, however, points to the project’s collaborative nature in achieving a combination of jazz and Persian classical music and the internal nature of the group as ultimately democratic. Despite this, the members’ level of cultural knowledge in relation to the music’s intended audience, often part of the Iranian diaspora, world music aficionados or at times the jazz scene, holds a particular sway over how the performance takes shape. This includes the selection
19 Jazz arrangements are often based on what are described as II – V – I cadences, chord substitutions that rely on chromaticism, particularly tri-tone substitutions, as well as an array of altered notes on top of chords. This creates an interface issue with the non-harmonic basis of Persian music. While bass accompanying practices for modally based music structures emerged in jazz from Kind of Blue (1959) onwards, the use of them as models by participants in relation to cross-cultural collaborations has not emerged as a trend.
122 of repertoire and performance practices that see Tiba’s voice as the central element of the performance. The nature of this process is characterised by Pass as thus:
Of course Tara and Reza (Merzai, the groups Persian born guitarist and setar player) know the Iranian side so when our gigs are aimed at that audience they’ll say let’s do this song, let’s not do that song, let’s do this song like this. So for example if Laura’s taking a solo they might say play more conservatively, or something. Don’t play your jazz lines on this because of this reason or, yeah that kind of thing. Or just give points on how to ornament- ate lines or, but then Alex and Laura and I know the jazz audience style, so there’s that. (Pass 2015, personal communication). Further to this, Pass’ own writing on the topic reveals similar dynamics in relation to the selection of her bass line style. In discussion of her work re-arranging ‘Autumn Leaves’ to accommodate elements of Tara Tiba’s vocal style, Pass remarks that ‘the rhythm section plays an extremely conservative role in this recording, playing very simply. This was partly at Tara’s request and partly because we discovered that if we played in an interactive manner akin to contemporary jazz accompaniment, it would sound inappropriate and not supportive of Tara’s vocal performance’ (Pass 2013, 43). Pass’s performance is largely ‘restricted to a two feel’. Although the heterophony of Persian radif can make the music relatively interactive between vocalist and accompanists, in this context the accompanist’s role, as in Hindustani classical music and jazz is somewhat secondary to the vocalist or soloist.
The somewhat complex negotiation of stylistic approach and musical practice seems to suggest that the musical creativity of the group, while concerned with appropriate support of the radif components, constantly interacts with a perceived audience in reference to popular music aesthetics and the best way to reach out to this market and ensure the ensemble’s performance opportunities (Pass 2015, personal communication). Pass describes her understanding of the nature of the bass side person role as such:
The thing that I really enjoy is treading that line between what I wanna do and what the leader wants to do and doing something that satisfies me and the audience and just navigating in that, I find really interesting and I think that the most successful bass players are people that do that really well. (Pass 2015, personal communication). Pass’ language here is reflective of the practical experience of accompanying double bass players. Bass performance accompaniment requires negotiation with other instrumentalists over what is appropriate and possible in a jazz performance and the same can also be said of cross-cultural performance. Determining this is in
123 and of itself a challenge for musicians and is one bass players like Pass, Rex and Clarke relish.
The Tara Tiba ensemble has attempted to develop an international audience and tours, alongside social media and online dissemination services like YouTube, to encourage the group’s exposure. This is a factor that also effects Pass’s selection of performance practices and improvisational approach. Tiba has, in particular tried, to cultivate an audience in Iran and the Iranian diaspora in the west. Tiba herself moved to Australia in part to enable her to perform as a singer publicly. This would not be possible in Iran where it is a practice largely reserved for male Persian classical music performers, a story which Tiba recounts between songs during her live performances. Tiba uploaded a recording of the group’s contemporary re- workings of the popular Arabic folk tune ‘Lamba Bada’ and standard repertoire like ‘Autumn Leaves’ and ‘Fly me to the Moon’ but sung in Farsi (Tiba 2014). These proved popular in Iran in part due to the exotic nature of pop-jazz lyrics translated into Farsi with some reference to aspects drawn from the relevant maqam of Persian classical music in the vocal aesthetics in Tiba’s use of melismatic ornamentation and micro-tonal inflection (Tiba 2014).
According to Pass this is a strategy on how to publicise the ensemble and how to present it, including the aforementioned discussion of how repertoire and practices are negotiated as a group. The establishment of a successful marketable product directly effects how Pass uses improvisation, as social and economic requirements dictate an aesthetically appropriate hybrid style geared towards a Farsi speaking audience, but also a recognisable one that requires a certain degree of mimesis. Pass raises that this means the originally improvised bass lines and improvisations which she performed are now solidified in recording and she may be called on to replicate them. This can be seen particularly in the group’s performances of ‘Lamba Bada’. On the recording Pass improvised a solo introduction to the piece of which she says ‘over the course of gigs sometimes I’ll feel like I need to play that sort of thing, but other times I’ll just play something totally different’ (Pass 2015, personal communication). Pass indicates that for high profile performances Tiba likes to have things set, and pre-determines the length of solos to ensure the quality of the product.
124 Pass’ solo on the recording makes use of ornamentation practices such as glissando that she would not probably use in a jazz context (Audio example 7. Track 7., 00:00:01-00:00:33). She states that in playing this introductory solo she was trying to play in ‘the way that Reza (the setar player) plays sometimes’ (Pass 2015, personal communication), in particular by incorporating elements of microtonality, or suggestions of it through glissando.
Pass’ improvisation on the bass is also restricted by the tension between Persian and jazz solo performance practices. This is a restriction related to learning of recently encountered musical practice such as ornamentation usage in the radif practices, which are not as common in jazz, and concerns about authenticity.
Definitely it’s really interesting, especially the challenge of soloing, using a mode, and the other thing is the Iranian classical improvisation style is so involved it would take, if I was to improvise authentically in that style it would take years and years and years of study. The way that they do it is they learn what they call a radif which is like a collection of melodies and small melodic fragments within each mode and once you’ve memorised all of those and there’s, so there’s 12 modes and each of them has a different selection and once you’ve memorised all of those which might take years then you can start improvising. So the Australian musicians have skipped that process but we’ve brought what we’ve learnt from a jazz background.
The thing that I’ve found is there’s an emphasis on melody when your improvising not playing over harmonic changes, it’s totally different to bebop for example, there are lots of things in my improvising that I know I could improve on to make it more authentic and things like that would be ornamentation, there’s a whole art to that, it’s one of the ways that interest is created with the limited set of notes that you can use from (the maqām). But the way you ornament and approach certain notes is what gives it such power. So that’s one thing that the Australian musicians, we’re trying to, have to learn basically. At the moment it’s sort of like using melody to create interest in your solo to create a climax. (Pass 2015, personal communication). Ornamentation has been a skill that has been difficult to adopt from Persian classical music alongside her jazz performance practices which favour independent notes, rhythmic subdivision and demarcation of the rhythmic and harmonic form to make it clear to the ensemble the point at which they are. Likewise Pass has found it difficult to adopt rubato style phrasing favoured by Reza and Tiba as it is neither stylistically appropriate to much jazz standard repertoire or practical for a bass player given they are responsible for harmonic and rhythmic progression. For instance, she says she would not play the same way on a jazz ballad as she does in her intro solo on ‘Lamba Bada’. This approach is connected to her time performing in Daramud with Reza and Tara and trying to subconsciously emulate some of Reza’s ornamentations practices (Pass 2015, personal communication). Pass does not feel that ornamentation practices are present in much of her straight ahead jazz
125 playing because they were not part of the history of jazz bass playing that she learnt, which did not favour extended techniques.
The difficulty in Pass’s perspective in choosing performance practices has partly been the lack of models for playing in this style. With few sources to imitate and inspire the decision making process, the choices are largely made through negotiation and instruction in the ensemble. In Pass’ words this makes it ‘hard to know if what you are doing is tasteful or correct or interesting’, which can lead to self-doubt (Pass 2015, personal communication). It is important to note that there are double bass performers who use ornamentation practices applicable to Pass’s performance context, most notably international artists such as Renaud Garcia-Fons and John Lindberg, but these artists are largely peripheral and are seen as not authentic and too soloistic to be included in the musical approaches that predominate in jazz education and jazz bass performance practices which currently circulate amongst accompanying musicians. These approaches are instead heavily reliant on the jazz foundational bass practices discussed earlier and exemplified by Ray Brown, Ron Carter and Paul Chambers. These are seen to be of more general use than other approaches and more musically and sometimes financially employable. The bass players that Pass has drawn on for inspiration in her cross- cultural work, Dave Holland and Avishai Cohen, have taken this jazz focused bass approach and combined it with other styles of music.
This situation is an important reminder of how globalised musical distribution is still subject to shaping by local reception and performance practice selection, and the realities of economic-social-musical priorities in producing music. Pass’ acquisition of music through formal education, work experience and musical preferences for the bass side person role leave her pre-disposed to certain approaches and provided access to them, leading to a unique coalescing of musical style in the fusion of jazz and Persian classical music. This ultimately influences how she responds to the performance context and confirms the importance of previous knowledge, ontological and epistemological, in structuring how musicians respond to new challenges.
Likewise, the predominance of the traditional bass role in education influences the desirability of different practices in professional performance. This
126 has evidently influenced Pass’ improvisation and performance practices in ways that are innovative, such as her approach to bass lines in a linear way to accommodate the radif and maintain tonal movement or attempts to ornament. But these have also restricted Pass to a role which is reliant on traditional jazz functions of the bass geared towards accompaniment and the provision of musical foundations. The cosmopolitan musical and social aims of Pass are not to be discounted: they remain important in shaping the musical performances of the group and the way in which Pass accompanies and improvises.
4.5 Translating the bass role to leadership – Brendan Clarke’s Bopstretch.
Brendan Clarke, who has worked primarily as an accompanist for most of his career, began leading his own band on and off about four or five years ago. Clarke’s motivations and approach to the bass in the ensemble are significant for this. His approach has continued to occupy the bass role which sees minimal change in terms of the performance practices he uses. Clarke has played in a variety of styles including pop, rock and jazz and is mostly known as a jazz freelancer, accompanying local and visiting musicians.
He started the ensemble to showcase a series of compositions he had written over his career and played occasionally with friends and colleagues but never recorded. Once releasing the recording Bopstretch in 2013 Clarke led the ensemble in performances at major jazz festivals such as Wangaratta and Manly and performed in most jazz venues or venues that program jazz around Sydney. Clarke says of the ensemble that he does not ‘think he changed his bass playing fundamentally, essentially I’m still doing what I do’, but taking a few opportunities to ‘play the melody and do intros’ (Clarke 2015, personal communication), such as on his rendition of ‘I’m Getting Sentimental Over You’. In this case Clarke has the opportunity to demonstrate his ability for different styles of bass improvisation such as through self-accompaniment by using double stops to imply chords. As a leader Clarke has the opportunity to improvise in ways which are more normally/commonly the domain of other instrumental players, such as extemporisation during the performance of the melody. In this introduction to ‘I’m getting Sentimental Over You’, Clarke uses this ability to suggest chords or imply
127 harmonic movement in rubato self-accompaniment. In the excerpt below he implies a movement from A Major to D7 and then A minor to D7 and then in bar 8 a movement from D7 to A minor, to Ab7 to Db7 heading to G7 in the following bar. This movement is referred to by jazz musicians as a side slipping two five.
Example 9. ‘I'm Getting Sentimental Over You’, Stretch (2013). Bass solo introduction excerpt. 00:00:00-00:00:20 Transcription. Audio Example 8. Track 8 Clarke, Brendan. 2013a. ‘I'm Getting Sentimental Over You’, on Stretch. Sydney: Brendan Clarke Music.
It is important to note that the taking of such introductions is usually assigned by the leader; the bass player then having to produce something in keeping with the style of tune and accommodate the leader’s wishes (Rex 2015, personal communication). In Clarke’s situation, as an occasional ensemble leader, he can choose the framework in which that improvisational activity occurs, on what tune, harmonic cadence, tempo and rhythmic feel.
The primary business of the bass in Clarke’s ensemble is still to take up the bass role, to accompany and occasionally solo reflecting his vision for the ensemble as a unified musical group structured around acknowledged jazz performance practices and therefore traditional musical hierarchies, rather than positioning the bass as the feature of the ensemble’s whole performance.
So it’s not really about me, my band, I just want to play good music and it’s fun choosing all the stuff, it’s sort of just fun isn’t it? I’m not trying to take the world by storm. As I’ve said I’ve done one gig this year and I haven’t tried to get anything else, it’s just cause because, well why not everyone else is doing it. I’m gonna do it as well. (Clarke 2015, personal communication)
128 While Clarke’s ensemble may not focus on his virtuosity or ‘chops’ as he refers to it, it does serve as an important marker of a shift in social status, despite the infrequency of the performances. Clarke is adamant that in doing this project he wanted to ‘make a contribution … and put my stuff out there’, a rhetoric and creative product that move him from a position as a performer and being largely an accompanist of others to something of greater social significance (Clarke 2015, personal communication). But Clarke derives a personal musical identity and authenticity as a bass player in his own project; defined by conventionally expected qualities such as a good sense of time or groove and harmonic control. Clarke can choose his own band members and choose the repertoire that further solidifies his authority as a musician and as someone who keeps and continues the practices of jazz performance in the jazz scene. However, as a leader there is an advantageous position in that this authority confers on Clarke’s work in general a greater social role as a musician. This is evidenced in that while Clarke claims it did not affect how people respond to his other work as a sideman, it has led to a change in how Clarke feels he is perceived in the jazz scene as shown in the quote below.
No. I mean a lot of people came out, actually I mean I had quite a few people come and say ‘hey man’, you know a few friends of mine put bands together after that and I’ve had a couple of other people say ‘man you inspired me to start my own band’. Which was really nice you know because I guess it takes a bit of, you know it takes a bit of, even though I’m being a bit low key about it. It does take a bit of courage to put your stuff out there, you know, to record the music that you’ve written and take it and present it and go ‘this is me’, you know people aren’t necessarily going to dig it. Musicians aren’t necessarily gonna dig it, so it is a risk because it’s pretty easy being a sideman, you know, there’s no pressure really but it’s not the same. (Clarke 2015, personal communication) Clarke had only moments earlier said that he placed the title ‘Bandleader’ on his email signature, ‘because it’s what people do’ and that it was not significant because ‘anyone can put a band together’; his candour over the dangers and the risk of negative reception inherent in presenting his own musical vision, in his own ensemble, seem to suggest that this move from bass player, to bass player and band leader was in fact a rather significant step to take in the social organisation of jazz musicians (Clarke 2015, personal communication). The temerity to take risks in the performance of music and the development of a musical project are ultimately rewarded by the musical community in terms of social status regardless of the traditional role of the instrument they play. A bass player doing this is not in itself a new thing and in this sense instrumental choice is not a clear factor. Perhaps most notably, Charles Mingus became one of jazz’s most significant composers and
129 auteurs while continuing to use double bass practices seen as traditional, albeit in some surprising new repertoire. However, moving into a leadership role musically, recording one’s own compositions and organising to perform them at prestigious events, are all significant markers of achievement in the jazz scene. In particular, having one’s own compositions takes a musician to another level. In this sense an element of the privileged position of the composer in western classical music has been somewhat adapted, though with less control.
The discourse used by bass players when talking about the jazz scene largely avoids speaking of social hierarchy. Instead Clarke positions himself as making a contribution to the social group of musicians and the performance of jazz by recording an album of his own material which reflects his taste and experience as a musician, thereby enhancing his reputation. The notion that being a sideman is advantageous in obtaining work, while the significant level of artistic mastery seen in the risk of leading an ensemble affect social standing in different ways and players such as Clarke negotiate this dynamic in order to carve out a niche in the scene. The sometimes relative social anonymity of being an accompanist may have greater economic security than the role of bandleader as gigs come via reputation and status as an accompanist but result in less creative control and less social capital, at least outside the jazz scene. According to Clarke accompanying is an employment opportunity available largely to rhythm section players, with frontline instrumentalists more financially dependent on having their own projects as there are fewer sideman gigs provided by larger ensembles for them to receive employment in (2015, personal communication). The implication of this of course is that bass players are fundamental to the music played in jazz performance contexts and the bass’ musical necessity leads to a more stable financial and social position for bass players like Clarke who have significant enough reputation at achieving the bass role and can rely on being hired for it. Relinquishing this position would be a big employment risk. However, to make the most of this position they must be willing to be musically cosmopolitan, hybrid in their musical practices, willing to learn new ones and able to effectively code switch for different contexts.
130 Conclusions
This chapter demonstrates the continuing centrality of the bass role in contemporary jazz performance and cross-cultural collaborations. Hybrid performance contexts have meant that jazz trained bass players have adopted different rhythmic techniques, and adapted to different tonalities. However, the role of improvisation remains something that is subject to a fair degree of restriction stylistically via musical hierarchy and by the social components of organising musical activities that impact the bass role. Bass players have tended to respond openly to hybrid contexts of performance including collaboration. Engaging with the preferences of different musicians and tailoring a musical approach to match the context have been characteristics of the double bass accompanist that carry over into the engagement with musics and musicians from other cultures. The rhetoric and behaviour they exhibit often reflect a type of cosmopolitanism that is implicated in the site specific context of the musical projects. However, there is an inherent tension carried over from the musical hierarchy of jazz ensembles that means the preferences of the individual bass player may not be integrated in the performance at the expense of a more traditional bass role. That many bass players see this as an opportunity is perhaps reflective of a cosmopolitan approach to music-making, but it is also reflective of a day to day reality. Musical hybridity is a central component of contemporary jazz scenes and the mastering styles and negotiating of a place in collaborations provides opportunities both inside and beyond the jazz scene.
131
132 Chapter Five
Contextualising bass players who are ensemble leaders
In this chapter I discuss double bass players who have led ensembles in jazz and hybrid performance contexts. The chapter examines the impact bass players in this role have made to ensemble hierarchies, as well as the impact they have had on performance practices, particularly improvisation. While a complete historical survey is not possible, here I examine significant performers and the approaches that have emerged. This chapter begins examining the literature on bass players primarily known in their capacity as ensemble leaders: it provides a brief survey of players who led significant careers as ensemble leaders since the 1950s, particularly those with hybrid approaches. It then provides two examples of my theoretical argument that hybridity has influenced the way bass players have developed approaches to the bass, its aesthetics and their role as ensemble leaders. Firstly I explore Charles Mingus, examining the literature surrounding his practices and turn to musical analysis of ‘Ysabel’s Tabel Dance’ to explicate the significance of his approach and its connection to hybrid music-making. In doing so I examine positioning of him as a leader and composer rather than as a performer and bass accompanist despite his utilising accompaniment practices extensively. I then move on to examine Renaud Garcia-Fons, an important figure in the contemporary world music scene who is viewed primarily as a soloist. In examining Garcia-Fons I incorporate analysis of his representation in popular discourse, particularly in the film Beyond The Double Bass (Dattilesi 2013), as an artistic outlier not bound by style, and discuss how his hybrid performance practices are central to his innovative approach to the instrument and the almost inverted feature role he has given the traditionally accompaniment based double bass in ensemble performance.
Despite the presence of bass players in ensemble leadership roles and as leaders of influential ensembles, bass player leaders have been historical outliers and firmly in the minority. In Chapters 3 and 4 the thesis discussed the role of economic security and stylistic preferences in making the accompanist role attractive to musicians and the seemingly contrasting status of artistry and therefore social significance that can come with stepping into the role of ensemble leader. It discussed individuals who did not rely on ensembles they led for the majority of their work. It is pertinent to be reminded of the shifting nature of musicians’ careers
133 and potential for changes in their relationship to ensembles as artists, sidemen and leaders dependent on the project; this is true of even the most well-known double bass players who have led ensembles, such as Mingus and Garcia-Fons. Indeed, there are numerous examples of innovations by double bass player ensemble leaders that remain on the margins of scholarship. Some, like Mingus, have stuck to being an ensemble leader once starting their own bands, while contemporary players such as Garcia-Fons have moved between roles time and again, fluidly.
A history of double bass players seen as occupying predominantly secondary and background roles in both studies and performance practices means there is often a disjuncture between studies and the actual performance practices of these leaders. Dealing with this disjuncture requires the documentation and understanding of the musical styles used, and greater focus on how the bass role and the performance practices used are being modified to create sound on the double bass.
5.1 Survey of bass player ensemble leaders
In general, jazz histories offer little discussion of ensemble leaders who are bass players. Notable attempts at historicising and re-historicising in the new jazz studies, for example those written by Alyn Shipton (2002), Gary Giddens and Scott Deveaux (2009) and Ted Gioia (1997), carry little mention of bass player leaders. They do, however, all focus on Charles Mingus as the bass player leader of historical note and musical excellence. Mingus continues to be one of the most researched bass player ensemble leaders in academic literature, especially in relation to his social politics. Examples include ‘Rebels and Volkswagens: Charles Mingus and the Commodification of Dissent’ by Mark Laver (2014) and ‘Outrageous Freedom: Charles Mingus and the Invention of the Jazz Workshop’ by Scott Saul (2001) His innovative musical practices, particularly in relation to composition, are increasingly drawing scholarly attention such as Mario Dunkel’s ‘Charles Mingus and Performative Composing’ (2011) and Andrew Stinson’s unpublished thesis ‘Charles Mingus played bass?: Rediscovering a jazz soloist through transcription’ (2014). However, most bass player leaders appear in lists of other notable figures in histories and receive minimal academic attention and are
134 generally discussed in relation to those they accompanied such as Charlie Haden with Ornette Coleman, Dave Holland with Miles Davis and Eddie Gomez with Bill Evans.
However, discourse shows such players have had significant careers as leaders with numerous recordings, and received substantial press in magazines that look at the nature of their ensembles and how they lead them. Holland, for example, describes his approach to leading a big band, which includes a significant break with rhythm section practices in such an ensemble, in an issue of Strings (Oullette 2002, 50-59). Holland chooses to arrange the music and rehearse it so that it does not need be conducted, but keeps the improvised sections as free as possible and as close to the accompaniment of his small ensemble. In this regard, his small ensemble is highly interactive and uses complicated and often dense rhythmic groupings20 (Holland 2005 & 2006). Holland expresses a desire similar to bass player leaders of ensembles encountered in this thesis’ fieldwork: to maintain connection and identity in the bass role. Holland comments ‘In my bands, I like being the bass player – in a supportive role as well as exploring melodic and rhythmic ideas – rather than the featured soloist’ (Oullette 2002, 59).
Other leaders such as Charlie Haden with his Liberation Music Orchestra have made socially significant statements which have garnered mainstream press attention. Haden’s Liberation Music Orchestra’s ensemble, on its self-titled album, brought together jazz and South American music exploring issues of conflict in the Americas developing from the Spanish American War (Haden 1970, Davis 2005, 84). In 2005 Haden used this ensemble to criticise the then Bush Administration with Not in Our Name referring to the then Iraq War (Davis 2005, 84). Most academic work referring to Haden, such as Shadduq’s (2002) dissertation and historical references to Haden are made in regards to his work with Ornette Coleman. Haden’s work in Coleman’s group, in particular albums such as The
20 Holland is perhaps one of the most influential leaders and his bass style has been studied pedagogically for the way it interpolates Hindustani approaches to rhythm (Oh 2005). Holland has led both small ensembles and big bands which focus on intense rhythmic interaction, polyrhythm and division of uneven metre. His use of Hindustani rhythmic practices has stimulated the approaches of contemporary players such as Linda Oh (2005) and Kate Pass (2013). More generally, the division of rhythm into odd groupings has become pervasive amongst jazz musicians and others; as a result, Holland provides an apt model at dealing with these structures in sophisticated and virtuosic ways.
135 Shape of Jazz To Come (1959) and Free Jazz (1961) occurred in an ensemble in which the roles were blurred and players were freer to determine how and what they played: effectively soloing collectively. This was highly significant for developments in the role of the bass player but it is interesting that less attention has been given to Haden’s later work, especially given its social and historical relevance.
Another significant figure in the development of bass players’ role was the Cuban bass player Israel ‘Cachao’ Lopez. Lopez, despite his use of jazz practices and significant musical relationships with well-known jazz musicians such as bass player Milt Hinton, is not often mentioned in relation to jazz history. Lopez worked as a leader in various recordings and performances and is perhaps most well-known for his descarga (improvised jam sessions) based album Cuban Jam Sessions in Miniature (Fernandez 2006, 75). These descarga are often noted in popular discourse as a combination of elements of Cuban Popular music with jazz improvisation practices in recorded jam session that he organised (Fernandez 2006 & Bass Player Magazine 2006) and which subsequently came to characterise the energetic sound of Cuban music but this may not have necessarily been Lopez’s intention (Fernandez 2006, 77-78). According to Fernandez, Lopez used ‘new bass tumbaos based on the son and the folkloric Cuban rumbas,’ and the recording features percussion heavily and was designed for listening rather than dancing (Fernandez 2006, 78). In subsequent exile in the U.S., Lopez performed as both a side person and leader in the New York City Latin scene and as a part of normal community celebrations in Miami until a resurgence of interest in his music thanks to a special concert in Miami organised by Andy Garcia (Fernandez 2006, 81). Lopez is often credited with combining African rhythms with Cuban popular music to create mambo, but this is disputed (Willis 2011). Nevertheless he appears to have been influential in this regard.
Lopez’s significant conservatory training and career with the Havana Symphony orchestra underscored his extensive capacities to improvise on the double bass performing updated danzón which previously had been characterised by the use of the habanera rhythm (Fernandez 2006, 77-78 & Bass Player Magazine 2006). Lopez and his brother’s innovations in developing the new danzón included incorporating elements of the son style and instruments like cowbell and conga
136 along with ‘freer rhythmic bass tumbaos’ (Fernandez 2006, 75-76). These innovations would be used as the basis of Perez Prado’s popularisation of the mambo. Lopez’s improvisation on the new danzón including his use of the bow on ‘Canta Contrabajo’, from the album Super Danzones Volume 2 (1957 re-released 2014) foreshadows many of the techniques and stylistic approaches that contemporary players with significant classical training like Renaud Garcia-Fons rely upon when soloing with ensembles. Lopez was influential on many American jazz bass players along with the Latin scene more generally, particularly in key centres such as New York and Los Angeles (Rufus Reid 2004, Fernandez 2006, 79- 80). Lopez also released two recordings in New York which made a large impact on the salsa scene, Tico Descardas Live at the Village Gate and Patato y Totico (Fernandez 2006). In this regard, if talk of Lopez’s achievements is to be believed his leadership role in shaping the sound of Cuban music in both Cuba and the United States and the wider possibilities for the bass in contemporary improvised music is significant and demonstrates how bass player leaders have shaped such hybrid music.
The underrepresentation of hybridity in the practices of contemporary bass player leaders in historical narratives continues and likewise little has yet been written about bass players who have sought significant careers as ensemble leaders over the last 30 years. A brief list of well-known contemporary players with easily accessible works includes: Avishai Cohen, Ben Allison, Chris Lightcap, Christian McBride, John Patitucci, Linda Oh, Mark Dresser, John Lindberg, Scott Colley, Chris Jennings and Renaud Garcia-Fons. The majority of the players here perform in both jazz and in hybrid projects and some perform in what would be considered cross-cultural collaborations.
One of the most significant bass player ensemble leaders for those exploring hybrid musical performance to emerge in the last two decades is Avishai Cohen. Cohen draws on his cultural roots in Israel including being surrounded by folk and traditional Hebrew chant (Pass 2013, 15) and interpolates it with his training in jazz. Like Holland his playing has become an object of study for musicians in developing their own approach in both formal and informal study (Pass 2013). He utilises complex rhythmic structures and Arabic influenced modal organisation in various compositions and improvisations, which have been important in shaping the
137 approach of players studied in this fieldwork, such as Kate Pass. Pass’ interest in Cohen’s approach is in the effect of hybridity replicating the timbre of the ‘ud, the use of ostinatos and a linear approach to bass line construction that Pass uses in her work with Tara Tiba, discussed in Chapter Three (2015 & 2013, 13-15). Other well- known contemporary leaders like Christian McBride and John Patitucci are more jazz focused in leading their own ensembles but are involved in cross-cultural collaborations, such as those made with the Australian-born ‘ud virtuoso Joseph Tawadros (Tawadros 2010 & 2014).
Many double bass players, originally trained in jazz, who lead ensembles have become interested in world music and collaborations. This reflects a much broader trend towards overt cultural hybridity in musical performance, which does bear some relationship to marketing categories like World Music and World Beat. While musicians have not necessarily sought to create music that fits into these categories they have taken advantage of the opportunity to market their already hybrid practices music to wider audiences. Players like John Lindberg, Chris Jennings and Renaud Garcia-Fons have sought to occupy this stylistic in-between space eschewing categories in favour of a stylistic ambiguity. The literature, for example, on Garcia-Fons, particularly the recent DVD documentary Beyond The Double Bass, often sees him positioned on a different plane as a kind of “super musician”: one whose work is not discussed in relation to specific sound or styles but rather as that of an innovative artist whose medium so happens to be music (Dattilesi 2013). This is a discourse also used by free-improvisers and avant-garde musicians who avoid associations with jazz by suggesting an absence of idioms (Borgo 2002, 182), a rhetorical position that can almost seem to make free- improvisation supra-cultural. All three players have been involved in collaboration across musical styles to varying degrees. Lindberg has worked extensively with hip- hop and classical music since the 1980s, while Jennings’ work since the mid 2000s has involved collaborations with North African vocalists, Japanese koto performers and many others. Garcia-Fons who is perhaps the most well-known bass player leader working with hybridity has collaborated with musicians from the flamenco tradition, Ottoman classical repertoire, Hindustani classical music and explored many other genres. As such discussion of his position and performance practices forms the focus of the last part of this chapter.
138 5.2 Charles Mingus: Bassist, Composer, Improviser, Ensemble leader
I will now discuss the representation of Charles Mingus in jazz scholarship and his musical practices as a composer, band leader and bass player. In doing so I will examine his positioning largely as a composer and explore the presence of hybridity in his musical practices in relation to the album Tijuana Moods and his development of innovative sounds on the instrument. It is a significant feature of Mingus’ legacy that he is invariably elevated to the status of composer in jazz histories (Stinson 2014, iii&7). Stinson has written, however, that his significance in jazz should not be removed from his role as a bass player and that in this role he made some of his most innovative contributions. I would further this by arguing that Mingus’ approach to music connected each of these components; bass player, composer and ensemble leader. Likewise, the hybrid nature of his musical practice is often unremarked in narratives documenting the jazz tradition. In fact Mingus as both a composer and performer made significant contributions to a more diverse use of metre, the reincorporation of blues based vocabulary and incorporation of tonalities used by musicians in Mexico, for example in Tijuana Moods. Mingus’ work is also of social significance in directly addressing issues of race and equality in his musical compositions, performances and rhetoric. In this section I analyse the discussion of Mingus in historical and academic discourse, drawing attention to his positioning as both a composer and performer.
Scholarship emanating from the study of jazz performance practices has often accepted the historical perspective of Mingus as a composer carte blanche. Shipton and Wilner have positioned Mingus as the 1960s ‘outstanding composer’ and a bass player whose playing was ‘dwarfed’ by his compositions (2002, 762 & 1995, 47). Wilner has even suggested that Mingus should not be categorised as a virtuoso, because of what he claims is a lack of technical difficulty in his improvisations (1995, 49). This is a fascinating claim, which conflates musical significance of performance with technical ability and provides little quantitative or qualitative support. Wilner recounts the common perception that Mingus’ improvised contributions were rehearsed because of the interaction between melodic pre-composed and improvised material and Mingus’ tendency to communicate pre-composed material through means other than notation (Wilner 1995, 49). This argument is problematic for a number of reasons, not least of which
139 because Mingus’ playing in many ways challenges Wilner’s argument that Scott Lafaro caused a major leap in the abilities and improvisational approach of bass players. Wilner’s discourse is representative of the prominence of performance/improvisation vs composition binaries in jazz studies and the distinction between the study of musical and social/historical practices in the discipline. The result of this is to confine our understanding of both musicians by using a restricted definition of improvisation as soloing or pseudo-soloing style accompaniment.
The definition of Mingus as a composer is significant in that it serves to show the leadership status he was associated with in jazz, differentiating him from the side person role the bass is usually associated with. Indeed Mingus’ leadership was known to be rather idiosyncratic, a quality most often associated with his salacious personal behaviour towards musicians such as well-known acts of violence on trombonist Jimmy Knepper, and his mental illness. However, his leadership practices in musical contexts are just as significant for the way he blurred the gap between performance and composition. Both historical studies (Shipton 2001, 768 & Gioia 1997, 328) and performance studies (Wilner 1995) have noted that in Mingus’ preference to communicate his pre-composed material orally by literally singing the composed line, and to provide musical direction in the course of performance, boundaries between improvisation and pre-composition are somewhat blurred. This approach interacted with Mingus’ use of temporal structures and rhythmic groupings uncommon in jazz at this point (Gioia 1997, 328). Mingus would keep an underlying pulse but change the way metre was divided often using 6/4 but also playing with divisions of that metre in two or three. One such example is ‘Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting’ from Blues and Roots (1960). He also drew on stylistic developments in free improvisation and used sections with previously undetermined rhythmic and tonal organisation: and this sometimes included the ensemble collectively improvising in a ‘free’ style such as on the Cornell 1964 live performance of ‘Fable of Faubus’ (Mingus 2007).
Discussion of Mingus’ practice seems to reflect the demarcation between the practice of composition and that of improvisation. Mingus was certainly interested in composition as a means of expression but this should not mean his use of improvisation should be dismissed. Both musical practices are present in Mingus’
140 musical performances, and the communication of musical information orally rather than through a system of visual notation can make it difficult to assess where the boundary between the two lies. However, the direct relationship between Mingus’ musical compositions, his bass playing and overt musical statement gives reason to see the relationship between musical processes of composition, performance and improvisation as fluid rather than based primarily on composition.
The combination of Mingus’ composed and performed musical practices and commentary on political events such as on ‘Fable of Faubus’ make him socially one of the most significant bass player leaders in jazz. Monson has discussed how the political nature of the piece’s lyric content performed by Mingus and drummer Dannie Richmond had been considered too politically potent by Columbia Records for releasing (2007, 183). The social and the musical were often directly related in Mingus’ musical practices and he was inspired to create this piece in reaction to events in Little Rock Arkansas, where segregation in schools was supported by Governor Faubus (Giddins 2009, 392). In this performance, in the free time section of his solo, Mingus makes a blues-infused reference to ‘The Ants Go Marchin’ Two By Two’, referring to the President Eisenhower’s intervention with federal troops to support desegregation (Audio Example 9. Track 9., 00:19:47-00:20:00) an act which can be seen as ‘signifyin(g)’ through improvisation (Coady 2011 & Tomlinson 1992)21. This performance shows the depth of social and musical meaning at play in Mingus’ music and the potential for composition, improvisation and jazz practices to be simultaneously a way of drawing attention to social inequality.
However, Mingus’ significance extends further in his routine use of hybrid music-making practices. Those musics which are from African-American social contexts are often discussed in his music’s creative origins before accentuating his compositional prowess but his use of music from Mexico is given far less attention. This partially exclusionary narrative of Jazz and Mingus has led some, such as Jenkins to refer to Mingus’ Tijuana Moods album recorded in 1957 but released in 1962 as a foray into ‘Latin pretenses’ (Jenkins 2006). Given more recent scholarship that views Latin influences as integral to jazz from inception it would
21 Performed live at Cornell University in 1964.
141 not be unreasonable to assume that Mingus’ Tijuana Moods was part of a broader personal and more widespread interest in musics south of the United States’ border.22 Regardless it seems significant that Mingus revisited aspects of the Tijuana Moods project in subsequent years after the original recording in 1957.
The juncture between these hybrid practices and Mingus’ performance on the bass is worthy of closer examination and reveals an innovative approach that predates developments by other bass players in the use of Phrygian sounds and the rhythmic palate of groups historically linked by the Spanish language and empire in Mexico. As a focal point for this discussion I would like to highlight the ‘Ysabel’s Table Dance’ performance from Tijuana Moods recorded in 1957 (1962) and a 1962 performance from Birdland which was also broadcast on radio (Mingus 2012). In these performance contexts we can hear the range of Mingus’ performance practice and its integration with his compositional approach.
The piece begins with a bass melody accompanied by a rhythmic and harmonic vamp. There is a clear difference in the methods of rhythmic and tonal organisation in this solo from jazz and blues idioms and it is interesting that Mingus chose the bass to convey this musical statement. Mingus’ early western classical training in Los Angeles may contribute to this arco melodic statement, which is combined with a modal approach to melodic organisation not yet evident in improvised jazz contexts. The combination of bowed technique and the exploration of the major Phrygian tonality in the opening represents a different way of thinking about double bass performance in jazz prompted by cross-cultural engagement. There is a more cantabile quality to the phrasing in its use of rhythm, longer durations punctuated by short shifting gestures emphasising the tension and release of modal phrases beginning on the 6th degree (B) and going up to the 9th degree (F) of the mode on E against the piano ostinato (Audio example 10. Track 10., 00:00:00). It is important to point out here that the way the modal melodic material is performed is consistent with the range of techniques Mingus used to explore
22 Certainly scholarship of improvisation and jazz since the 1990s has presented a far different narrative in which hybrid musical practices in the Black Atlantic between musicians in the United States and South America are significant to jazz’s most idolised practitioners such as Dizzy Gillespie (Stanyek 2004), and foundational to the development of jazz styles and practice for example John Storm Robert’s discussion of the ‘Spanish Tinge’ in Jelly Roll Morton’s work (1985, 39) and Christopher Washburne’s exploration of Afro-Cuban son’s influence on rhythmic practice in jazz (1997).
142 elements of blues tonalities in his composition and improvisation, including the microtonal manipulation of blue notes, vibrato and tremolo techniques. Different sources of knowledge are evident in this hybrid approach; his training in western classical arco approaches to the double bass, his in depth knowledge of jazz and blues idioms and his encounter with music from the Mexican border town of Tijuana which led to the incorporation of Iberian and Mexican sounds.
The 1962 live broadcast includes much of the same melodic material as the version recorded in 1957. However, the performance, and the organisation of the material is quite different. Mingus seems to play far more with tension and release, saving the tonic as punctuation for concluding phrases: coherent with this is the greater time spent on other tones such as the supertonic (F) rather than quickly resolving (Audio Example 11. Track 11., 00:00:00). We can hear a greater use of vibrato on the longer durations, achieving a timbre associated with flamenco vocal and Latin American vocal sound. The playing is reminiscent of but not the same as the studio recording; the performance of the melodic performance changes partly because of the faster tempo.
The impact of Mingus’ hybrid approach to music-making on his bass playing is also evident in his strumming accompaniment to Ysabel’s vocalising and maracas which begins the 1957 version. This sound is generated by strumming the string in the style of a guitar and is transcribed below.
Example 10. ‘Ysabel's Table Dance’, Tijuana Moods recorded in 1957 (1962). Bass double stop riff excerpt. 00:00:05 Transcription. Audio Example 10. Track 10. Mingus, Charles. 1962. ‘Ysabel's Table Dance’, on Tijuana Moods. New York: RCA Victor.
The percussive and harmonic use of the bass effectively expands its aesthetic and role with greater performance options and is worth noting given its hybrid inspiration. Certainly the lack of interest in such hybrid performance work of key figures in jazz histories and scholarship is an issue worthy of consideration.
The musical practices of Charles Mingus are much more diverse than
143 history and scholarship have noted. His performance practices, improvised and otherwise, are of course inextricably linked to his compositional vision. The development of core expressive techniques such as his use of vibrato in performing modally based material on ‘Ysabel’s Table Dance’ shows how hybrid musical practices draw on materials from across a musician’s knowledge including past training in classical music to perform other musics. Likewise hybrid musical performance encourages the development of instrumental techniques like strumming that allow the bass player to step out of their traditional roles in jazz.
5.3 Renaud Garcia-Fons
The musical career of Renaud Garcia-Fons provides an interesting case in analysing the development of improvisational approaches and performance practices of double bass players in cross-cultural collaborations and jazz. This is due to Garcia- Fons’ encounters with a multiplicity of musical cultures and styles in developing his own performance practice and collaborating with other musicians. Garcia-Fons’ work places an emphasis on creating a sound world that reflects his diverse experiences and explores the capacities of the instrument, developing a range of techniques that go beyond what has previously been seen as possible with the double bass. This has led to an overwhelmingly positive discourse around his music in the media, comparing him to Paginini (Evans 2012). In exploring the double bass Garcia-Fons uses the inspiration of world musics to mimic the timbres of: the flamenco guitar, berimbau, the sarangi and a host of others, as well as the pitch and rhythm systems these instruments use. In this section I discuss Garcia-Fons’ musical background in classical music and jazz and his exposure and exploration of world musics. I examine the discourse on Garcia-Fons’ music-making as going beyond musical style and the instrument itself in relation to the film Beyond the Double Bass (2013) by Nicholas Dattilesi that documents Garcia-Fons’ practice. I then examine his hybrid musical practice more specifically and use of innovative techniques with reference to ‘Cristobal’ from the album Entremundo (2004). I argue that through Garcia-Fons’ musical and cultural background, and experiences of multiple traditions, he can be seen to align with contemporary narratives of progress and globalisation. However he can also be seen to reflect Bohlman’s
144 characterisation of world music as a centuries old phenomenon in that the hybrid nature of the music stems from long-term cultural interactions which accompany histories of colonisation and trade and configure plural social contexts (Bohlman 2002, 21).
Garcia-Fons was born in Paris to parents who were artists from the Catalonia region of Spain, which has been controlled by different political, economic and social powers over its history and which struggles for self-determination. Garcia-Fons’ French cultural identity also impacts on his music and is partly formed by France’s history of empire and its contemporary cultural pluralism. The accessibility of different musics from both former colonies and those circulating throughout Western Europe as World Music has helped to characterise the contemporary musical landscape in France including that of the residual influence of Debussy and Ravel, Garcia-Fons’ collaborators like Nguyên Lê and musical influences on Garcia-Fons’ own approach including flamenco, Hindustani Classical music, Qawali and Mevlevi Sufi music.
Garcia-Fons’ initial musical development was characterized by an interest in both the western classical music tradition and the regional musics of Europe such as flamenco. He studied piano and classical guitar in his youth and listened to a wide variety of music from jazz and classical idioms. Garcia-Fons took up the double bass at the age of 16 and trained in western classical music including at the Paris Conservatory of Music (Garcia-Fons 2012a). However his interest in a broad range of music would become a feature of his career and approach to music. He states that he ‘had the intuition and desire to give a soloist’s voice to the instrument’, which belies his soloistic approach to performance in ensembles (Dattelisi 2013). Garcia- Fons gained professional experience of jazz in the Le Big Band Roger Guerin which was influenced stylistically by Guerin’s experiences playing with Django Reinhardt, James Moody and the Quincy Jones Big Band (Bhabha 1994, 80 & 194- 195). Involvement in this ensemble would include performance with musicians from the American jazz community such as drummer Kenny Clarke (Chadbourne 2013).
Garcia-Fons later performed with the Orchestre National de Jazz, a state funded musical project during the musical direction of Claude Bethelemy, who is
145 known for fusing elements of jazz with a range of styles (Garcia-Fons 2012a). As a result of his experiences and encounters with different musics, Garcia-Fons chose to explore music at the intersections between jazz, classical, flamenco, rock, South American styles like bossa nova, and musical styles from India, by utilising a ‘greater freedom for improvisation’ to develop sounds not traditionally associated with the double bass (Garcia-Fons 2012a & ONJ 2014).
Garcia-Fons’ music reflects the presence of multiple traditions in his cultural and musical identity: classical music, jazz and Spanish sounds, as well as encounters with traditions outside his direct ethnic and cultural background which are facilitated by intercultural interaction: face-to-face work with musicians with backgrounds in music from places such as North Africa, Vietnam and Turkey. Examples include Garcia-Fons’ collaborations with vocalist Dhafer Youssef (1999), guitarist Nguyên Lê (1997 & 2000), and Turkish kemençe player Derya Türkan (2010).
Garcia-Fons’ varied cultural/ethnic background and experiences serves to underscore his explorations of different musical cultures and are invoked in discourse surrounding his compositions and performances. Ideas such as navigation, journeys, history and musical styles are often used in the titles of his compositions, as are regional and place names. This can be seen in the titles of albums and compositions like Navigatore (2001), ‘Pilgrim’ (2012b), Légendes (1997), referring to history, and Oriental Bass (1997). Just as Garcia-Fons’ titles reflect attempts to traverse and explore musical style they also reflect his goals to extend and surpass the expectations of the double bass in the compilation album title Beyond the Double Bass (2013). While these titles may seem relatively insignificant, the connection between them and the discourse used to describe his relationship to hybrid music-making and the double bass raise them as important and purposeful attempts at signifying the goals of his creative practice. Garcia-Fons’ musical identity is effected by the process of cultural ‘encounter’; however, the informal literature provided by interviews in magazines and in the film Beyond the Double Bass discuss his work as utilising and going beyond hybridity by invoking the concept of isolated and individual artistry distinct from work as a bass player or invoking ideas of bridging cultures with traditional knowledge and innovation (2013). In the film, focus is placed on his innovation and separating him from
146 approaches to the bass that have come before. Garcia-Fons’ abilities on the instrument are phenomenal and perhaps represent the height of the instrument’s capacities, but connections to past approaches are evident in his practices, which recall the work of Mingus, Israel ‘Cachao’ Lopez, Francois Rabbath and others. The film attempts to overcome the difficulty of pinpointing the exact style of Garcia- Fons’ work by connecting it to his narrative as an artist whose oeuvre sits independent of style. It establishes this narrative through an opening quote from Vassili Kandinsky ‘art in its totality is not a vain creation of objects losing themselves in emptiness but a power with a goal and which should further the evolution and the refinement of the human soul’ (in Dattilesi 2013). Music critic Karl Lippegus becomes the spokesperson for the view of Garcia-Fons as independent of style referring to Garcia-Fons’ albums as ‘orchestral suites’ in which he ‘follows his own vision and who also avoids cliches’. He views Garcia-Fons as an artist first, ‘then he is a musician and finally he is a double bass player’ (2013). Lippegus argues that the use of different musical styles from around the world is secondary to his artistry and vision, ‘It doesn’t really matter because it’s his own world, actually’ (2013).
While this is an appealing narrative, it has its limitations, not least of which is the reliance of Garcia-Fons’ innovations on the musical-cultural styles of other cultures. As such some critics and many of the musicians interviewed about Garcia-Fons in the film present a view in which Garcia-Fons is seen to use his immense musical skills to use the bass as a ‘bridge’ between different musical worlds, as kemençe player and collaborator as Deryan Türkan puts it (2013). Journalist Alex Dutilh perhaps exemplifies this view the best acknowledging the many influences on Garcia-Fons’ work and the presence of different musical styles, but seeing them as elements that Garcia-Fons coordinates and controls, ‘Renaud investigates and gives value to these elements, he arranges them, makes them sound, and rolls the red carpet’ (cited in Dattilesi 2013). In this sort of view Garcia-Fons is the shaper of style in his own vision more than shaped by style, going beyond what is known to paraphrase Nguyên Lê (cited in Dattilesi 2013).
The film’s representation of Garcia-Fons’ attempts to avoid established systems of cultural and musical identification but the combination of musical/cultural styles such as flamenco and jazz in La Linea Del Sur reminds us
147 that music is reliant on referential modes of expression to communicate and articulate its identity (Garcia Fons 2009a). Certainly Bhabha argues that this awkward context of cultural ‘in-between spaces’ is where ‘new signs of identity, and innovative sites of collaboration’ occur (Bhabha 1994, 2), but they are not bare of historical-cultural traces and must occur in relation to an extant socio-cultural form of expression.
The existence of his musical practice in a cultural ‘in-between space’ assists in developing practices beyond the pre-conceived ensemble role of the bass; note that Garcia Fons is often the feature soloist and melodic performer. What application of Bhabha’s theorisation highlights in Garcia-Fons’ work is a practice of making meaning based on cultural ‘hybridity’ that includes rather than excludes (Bhabha 1994, 56) a process of understanding meaning that does not use people’s differences or musical styles, in this case, as a limiting structure of culture that governs how identity is articulated (1994, 56).
This cultural and musical process is closely linked to Garcia-Fons’ use of improvisation as a tool for exploring musical practices and extending the instrument’s capacities. Stanyek has described improvisation as having the capacity to embrace the heterogeneity and multiple viewpoints which are an inevitable result of cross-cultural and transcultural music-making (2004, 117). Thus, improvisation he argues is an ideal musical practice for articulating marginalised and emerging identities. It balances the need of musicians in cross-cultural collaborations to maintain a connection to their musical lineage and allows incorporation of multiple viewpoints in musical expression and ultimately identity negotiation. For Garcia- Fons, the objective appears to be cultural/musical dialogue, which stimulates creativity and re-evaluation of performance practices (Garcia-Fons 2012a). However, ownership and authorship of the music remains complicated and often unclear. Is it Garcia-Fons as composer, or the group of musicians collaborating that are the source of this music?
Certainly his collaborators’ presence and their glowing endorsement of his abilities serve to legitimise and even idealise his approach to music-making as unbound by issues of appropriation. Garcia-Fons and his collaborators are involved in what is depicted in the documentary Beyond the Double Bass (Datillesi 2013) as
148 egalitarian music-making with some level of equality over the music’s development. Take for example his work with Turkish kemençe player Derya Türkan in which the two musicians are seen working out ways to bridge the practices relying on the common bowed string instrument approach to sound production to perform an interpretation of a traditional Ottoman composition (Datillesi 2013). In the documentary we are given a glimpse into their rehearsal process with the two working on blending tonally and matching phrasing patterns. Garcia-Fons does, however, hold considerable status amongst musicians, which enhances the likelihood of musicians wanting to perform with him. The realities of the context surrounding contemporary performance, which is characterised by challenges to touring, publicity and basic financial survival, indicate the presence of western imperatives of musical production at play which can have effects on the longevity of cross-cultural collaboration. To this extent it is worth noting that Garcia-Fons’ albums like Oriental Bass (1997) and Entremundo (2004) and work as a leader tend to receive more notoriety than his collaborations such as that with Turkish kemençe player Derya Türkan on Silk Moon (2006), but collaboration with artists like Nguyên Lê are well known.
Snapshot of Garcia-Fons’ improvisational approach and hybridity
This snapshot of the technical developments and improvisational practices Garcia- Fons has developed in performance suggests that contemporary cross-cultural improvised ensemble contexts use existing musical styles extensively. Garcia-Fons’ choice of instrument plays an important role in the development of his improvisational approach across cultures. As Bohlman has argued instruments bring with them a lineage of musical knowledge and this cultural association of sound with the physical instrument help to inscribe not only diaspora but cultural exchange (Bohlman 2002, 116). This means that in many instances Garcia-Fons’ forays into the musical styles of the ‘other’ are inscribing a new pattern of understanding the world. This process requires Garcia-Fons to manipulate the various techniques of the classical and jazz bass traditions in order to achieve sounds from ‘other’ musical traditions, resulting in a unique way to approach the instrument and musical performance. The use of these techniques to produce sounds
149 can be heard as he tries to express the musical vocabulary of styles such as flamenco and maqām.
Garcia-Fons has taken elements of western classical double bass technique and used them in new ways to emulate the sound of different instruments. This can be heard across his recorded catalogue as he variously tries to invoke the ‘ud being plucked by the reeshe (plectrum) by dropping the bow on the string, the flamenco fingerstyle technique by bouncing the bow on the string close to the bridge, and the sound of the sarangi. These timbres are perhaps the most overt signs of cultural hybridity in Garcia-Fons’ performance practice, but on closer inspection also reflect the incorporation of different approaches to temporal and spatial organisation.
In Garcia-Fons’ 2004 recording of ‘Cristobal’ released on the album Entremundo (2004) there is one of many opportunities to contextualise this process in ensemble based improvisation and understand its significance. The composition ‘Cristobal’ has been described by Garcia-Fons as using jazz, flamenco and classical music to tell the story of Christopher Columbus’ journeys and explorations of America (Garcia-Fons 2004 & 2009b). Jazz harmony based on two-five progressions is audible in the composition. It is combined with a rhythmic cadence to finish the recurring form such as from 0:25-0:3923 (Garcia-Fons 2004 & 2009b). The melodic form borrows elements from all three genres but is closest to replicating the vocal qualities of sung flamenco (Garcia-Fons 2004).
These pre-determined structures set the direction for the improvisation that is used by each performer in the ensemble, encouraging reference to the systems of melodic, rhythmic and harmonic knowledge that emanate from the styles Garcia- Fons mentioned: jazz, flamenco and classical music. While these references are audible, how they are employed is somewhat blurred due to their synthesis in one musical performance. Certainly the employment of jazz, classical and flamenco styles is lent authenticity by Garcia-Fons’ personal long-term experience with these styles, and his collaborator Kiko Ruiz’s relative renown for mastery of the flamenco guitar.
23 Audio Example 12. Track 12. Garcia-Fons, R. 2004. ‘Cristobal’, on Entremundo. Munich: Enja.
150 Garcia-Fons’ adoption of Flamenco principles of musical organisation are obvious from early on in ‘Cristobal’ in a short improvisational break between melodic statements. In this short break which can be heard from 00:00:40 to 00:00:52 (Audio Example 12. Track 12) and see on the following page (Garcia- Fons 2004), Garcia-Fons employs a technique which he has specifically developed for the cross-cultural context to emulate the sound of flamenco. To the untrained eye and ear this technique can be observed as the act of bouncing the bow upon the strings from a considerable height (Garcia-Fons 2004). The classical string technique of spiccato is an audible component of this technique and the arm-wrist- bow action used seems to be the basis of this technique. However, the drop appears less controlled, the enhanced height, speed and brevity with which the bow approaches the string, along with its fairly significant weight helps to create the percussive sound that better resembles the more abrupt attack of strings plucked with fingernails or hard implements as in flamenco guitar playing.
In the context of this piece the use of the technique resembles the melodic interjections of the flamenco guitarist in that genre and structurally, the improvised ornamentation of jazz soloists in open sections24. Garcia-Fons uses a triplet semiquaver partly articulated by the bow on the first and third note and the other note played in the style of a hammer-on; for example, the first bar of the excerpt over the page, this is similar to a trill but with greater rhythmic definition between notes. By using both the bow and the left hand to articulate the melodic content almost as if it was a plectrum, Garcia-Fons is better able to achieve the rhythmic density a flamenco guitarist can with multiple fingers. Garcia-Fons also uses this on rhythmic divisions based of semi-quavers, revealing a further influence of flamenco.
24 Such as Sonny Rollins ‘Oleo’ (1962).
151 Example 11. ‘Cristobal’, Entremundo (2009). Bass arco improvisation interlude. 00:0:40 Transcription.
Audio Example 12. Track 12. Garcia-Fons, R. 2004. ‘Cristobal’, on Entremundo. Munich: Enja.
The pitch selection for these trill like movements, seems to rely on common ground between flamenco and jazz. The melodic approach in both this short break and Garcia-Fons’ longer solo from 00:01:30 (Audio Example 9) seems to reflect the harmonic structure of the piece; a practice commonly associated with playing the changes in jazz, though the solo makes limited use of chromaticism emanating from the altered scale25 which is often heard in improvising over such harmonic forms. The diatonic basis for the improvisation and slight micro-tonal inflections associated with the trill like melodic technique could be seen as a common ground between the use of blue notes in jazz and the micro-tonal inflections of flamenco vocals. The use of a largely diatonic basis for the improvisation perhaps reflects the effort to find a middle ground between the players, but given the tendency of contemporary jazz musicians to play ‘outside’ the changes it is noticeable this vocabulary is not included and may reflect the wide audience at which the music is aimed. The rhythmic quality of the piece in 6/8 and the use of the semiquaver triplets could also be seen to reflect the rhythmic style of flamenco extemporisation.
The approach of using commonalities in different styles as crossroads on which to build a performance is an approach that McNeil has argued has enhanced the success of cross-cultural collaboration in negotiating the musical aesthetic or space in which the performance is taking place (2007). In Garcia-Fons’ practice the connection between hybrid musical performance and innovation on the instrument are coupled together. His work in this regard demonstrates the significance of
25 Particularly the use of b9, #9, b4, b6.
152 hybrid cultural process to the performance practices of bass player soloists and the potential it offers for reimagining the instrument and its role in musical styles. The constituent styles, however, are still audible in the music’s practices and aesthetics. In many ways this reflects Garcia Fons’ position as a culturally hybrid artist working in a globalised world, but it is also indicative of an experience shaped by diverse cultural practices. However, this is not in itself a new phenomenon.
This chapter has positioned the role of double bass leaders in relation to historical, scholarly and popular discourses on their musical and social practices. It has drawn attention to the relatively minimal amount of scholarship in this area and problems in the representation of bass player ensemble leaders. In exploring Charles Mingus and Garcia-Fons it has made evident the role of hybridity in shaping and developing the practices of double bass players. In doing so it demonstrates and contextualises cultural hybridity’s role in creating innovative performance practices, new aesthetics of performance and challenging the bass’ role as an accompanying instrument. I have also established the general landscape of bass players who are ensemble leaders and their performance practices. In doing so this chapter provides context for the following two case studies, which explore the role of hybridity in shaping the performance practice of local bass player ensemble leaders and the cosmopolitan way in which they go about this in practice and attitude.
153
154 Chapter Six
Reimagining the role of the bass player: The case of Lloyd Swanton
In this chapter, I undertake a case study of the Sydney based double bass player Lloyd Swanton based on fieldwork and musical analysis. The purpose of this case study is to explore how the practices of double bass players from a jazz background can be viewed as a form of contemporary cultural cosmopolitanism. As I outlined in Chapter Two cosmopolitanism involves the embrace of difference (Appiah 2006, xv), the primacy of learning about cultural practices in significant ways that lead to a transformation of personal practice and the capacity of such a practice to ‘problematize and pluralize’ identities (Delanty 2006, 40-41). The ethnographic work of Monson (1996), Berliner (1994) and my own fieldwork in Chapter Five shows that there are distinct ensemble roles in mainstream jazz settings. My research here reveals that interaction with the expectations of jazz with cultural hybridity effects the practices of bass players. I assert that the perspective and practices of Swanton in syncretic or hybrid ensemble contexts offers insight into how the aesthetics and codes of improvisation in contemporary jazz performance including the bass role are being reimagined. In doing so I show how Swanton’s cosmopolitan music-making which is characterised by the cosmopolitan practice of using learning to establish respectful critical and creative engagement runs counter to assumptions about hybrid music-making as financially motivated and subsumed in the market forces of globalisation.
Initially I examine the foundations of Swanton’s musical practice, I then explore his music as an composer and ensemble leader with The catholics26 and as a supporting ensemble member in performances and rehearsals, arguing that this leadership role utlilises hybridity effectively to offer alternative approaches to the bass role that blur the role between accompanist and melodic soloist. I then discuss his work as co-leader of The Necks and the role of both hybridity and the removal of ensemble hierarchies in Swanton’s development of an innovative approach to improvisation on the double bass, which challenges its traditional practices and aesthetics in jazz. These areas of discussion will highlight the way Swanton has developed alternative musical practices and reimagined the bass role as part of a
26 The catholics is deliberately spelt with a lower case ‘c’.
155 cosmopolitan approach to music-making which in turn reflects the complicated nature of social meanings associated with performing jazz in Australia.
6.1 Cosmopolitan engagement with improvisation, jazz and the double bass.
Swanton’s early experiences with music were diverse and this has continued to characterise how he has engaged with the music that underpins his innovations in improvisational approach and double bass performance. However, his practice goes beyond the merely eclectic and engages directly with the role of the bass, and what possibilities might exist for it in other musics. Swanton has used engagement with a diverse range of musics as a way of changing how musicians think about the bass in jazz: both offering an innovative approach to the double bass and expanding its practices. It is in this way that Swanton can be seen to align with contemporary conceptions of cultural cosmopolitanism like Delanty’s that go beyond the aesthetically hybrid. Swanton’s musical practice includes the recognition and embrace of difference that is the behaviour of cosmopolitans according to Appiah (Appiah 2006, xv), but it also evidence of the more complex processes of cosmopolitanism in that it involves the ‘interplay of self, other and the world’ in situating Swanton’s music in relation to jazz and world musics and ‘a learning process, that is an internal cognitive transformation’ (Delanty 2006, 40-41). Such learning impacts performance practices, which assist him in reimagining the role of the bass in The Necks and The catholics. John Shand has discussed Swanton’s early development starting with interest in playing ‘pop, metal and progressive rock’, with a growing interest in jazz facilitated by his father’s record collection and Thelonious Monk. In addition Swanton was exposed to Indian classical music via a Ravi Shankar record played by a divinity teacher at school (2009, 113). However, there seems to have been a broader based interest and exposure to Indian classical music due to trends in popular music circulating around the 1970s. In interview Swanton expanded on his experience of listening when responding to questions about the genesis of his interest in music from India, South America, the Caribbean, Mali and Senegal, which have featured in his work with The catholics. Swanton recalled being ‘blown away’ by the Shankar LP but that he was already vaguely familiar with the sound because of the popularity of the Beatles Sgt. Peppers and the Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967) and the George Harrison track, ‘Within you
156 Without You’ which featured sitar and tabla. Swanton remarks, ‘So I guess I had heard that but not in terms of a 22 minute raga and I was blown away and that was really the point where I started opening my ears to non-Western traditions.’ (Swanton 2014b, personal communication).
In learning about these musics Swanton found different ways for the bass to keep a pulse or in some cases not keep a pulse which helped him to reimagine the double bass beyond its time-keeping role. In this way learning was a core component of transforming his approach to the bass and helps to demonstrate how his music is culturally cosmopolitan. In The catholics this has led to the use of Malian and reggae influences, for example in ‘Home’ which I discuss; later Swanton uses this to generate bass lines that groove but are also melodic. In The Necks, his interest in Indian classical music is significant because of its connection to process, as opposed to conventional forms used in jazz. It has also been important in shaping The Necks’ performance aesthetics, which are influenced by the harmonically static and rhythmically attenuated nature of ālāp sections’ slow evolution in Hindustani classical music. Elements such as the drone-like, static tonal centre of the ālāp sections and the slow evolution of the music’s development are incorporated into Swanton’s performance on the bass.
Swanton trained in jazz at the NSW Conservatorium of Music, learning the standard repertoire and the performance of a traditional bass role. This involved mastery of the bebop idiom and the designated role of bass accompanist discussed in Chapter Five. Swanton’s pursuit of the bass accompanist role with assigned solo space, continued in his initial professional period following the conservatorium of which he comments:
I could certainly say that in the early days, as I was learning to play jazz in particular, I was really going down the orthodox template of learning to be a soloist and learning to accompany in a way that would provide the soloist with the sort of things that they’re expecting… and that is still totally valid. But I guess I came to a realization early on that I didn’t have a talent for that particular virtuosic soloing, and I had to reassess what I was really good at. One thing I’m really good at is questioning the status quo. Whether I’ve got an answer or not, I’ve always thought about what music means. I’ve always thought about the role of the bass in jazz. (Swanton 2014a, personal communication) Swanton chooses to characterise the broadening of his musical practice in a self- effacing manner. However, in the 1980s and 1990s he was, in fact, highly regarded and well-renowned for his jazz standard and bop playing by his peers and was
157 employed by the legendary Australian saxophonist in the bop idiom, Bernie McGann. His questioning of the ‘status quo’ and ‘the role of the bass in jazz’ demonstrate the centrality of critical reflection and learning to the development of his cosmopolitan practice (Swanton 2014a, personal communication). In his work Swanton has questioned why time must be kept in particular ways and why tonality must move in a strict temporal relationship with rhythmic duration to demarcate chord progressions. It is from this questioning that Swanton re-imagines the bass beyond its definition as a harmonic and time-keeping instrument, into a more fluid role in The Necks and The catholics. The cosmopolitan nature of his musical practice means that engagement with jazz and world music simultaneously offers an opportunity and/or inspiration to change how the bass sounds and what it does, embedded in learning and understanding different musics. In this sense the cultural cosmopolitanism of practicing jazz and world musics in Australia is evidenced in Swanton’s musical hybridity and can be observed in Swanton’s practice. It is also evidence of critical engagement with jazz and other musics that asserts a plural approach to musical cultural practice.
As discussed in the previous chapter ensemble hierarchies that put bass players outside the traditional accompanying role have not been prominent in the academic literature’s exploration of double bass players’ practices, despite changes that have taken place since the early 1960s. Players’ exploration of the expressive, textural and melodic capacities of the instrument such as Charlie Haden’s use of strumming with Ornette Coleman, and David Izenson’s use of a form of bowing with Archie Shepp which can be seen as a precursor to Swanton’s approach have had a strong impact on his practices (Swanton 2014b, personal communication).27 These players’ approaches are not considered archetypal models pedagogically and historically; rather, they are positioned as exceptional, or on the margins of jazz performance and not the core business of jazz bass playing, because they incorporate techniques like strumming and bowing and Coleman’s harmelodics approach to tonal organisation. However they are core points of reference from where Swanton’s innovations develop.
27 Both Haden and Izenson performed in groups with Ornette Coleman. Izenson makes use of the bow particularly on performances such as ‘Dawn’ playing heterophonically to Coleman or rhythmic phrases, which are metrically even in comparison to Swanton’s use of the bow, but can be seen as a precursor to his tremolo approach (Swanton 2014b, personal communication).
158 While Swanton enjoys swinging and grooving he sees the bass role as more flexible than merely accompanying and soloing. Such a view helps to explain his part in the development of an ensemble approach in The Necks where no one solos or his approach to The catholics in which the bass lines are often melodic, for example ‘Home’ (1994). Swinging remains significant to his practices and performance career because he still performs in ensembles under others’ leadership28: it is one of many approaches in what is a necessarily hybrid overall practice, like many of his contemporaries as discussed in Chapter Four. It is a significant practice for the way it maintains the relationship to the social and the musical signs of the jazz bass role. Swanton’s learning of the jazz bass role is evidence of an affinity with the cultural practices of different social groups from his own from early on; the connection he maintains to it, despite subsequently altering the bass role, reflects the complex nature of his cosmopolitan cultural practice.
This dynamic came to the fore on a tour to Europe with prominent 1980s jazz band The Benders. Swanton heard many prominent American jazz musicians play at festivals like Montreux Jazz and North Sea, but these performances did not have the impact on him he thought they might. Swanton’s experience speaks to how the Australian cultural context and his own subjectivity has mediated the meaning of jazz performance. Cultural practices carry different identity politics in different contexts and perception of the differences in the meaning that results from their use is an important aspect of cosmopolitan practice. This does not preclude participation in a culture or its music, in fact for all intents and purposes global engagement with jazz has been perceived positively. In fact the centrality of musical competency to social competency in jazz might be the foundation stone for understanding jazz’s capacity for transference as a musical practice to so many different cultural groups. In this sense cultural cosmopolitanism and jazz have the potential to serve similar functions in that participation rather than location is central to how cultural behaviour on the one hand, and musical performance on the other, shape aspects of identity. Cosmopolitanism does, however, require particular attitudes that encourage hybridity that not all jazz musicians hold.
28 Notable examples include Alister Spence’s Trio which is a well-established ensemble in Australia
159 In Swanton’s case, participation in jazz and hybrid musical performance reflects his experiences and attitudes to making music but also have ramifications for how the relationship between his and other jazz musicians’ identities and musical practices might be viewed. Swanton came from a middle-class suburban Sydney background with a broad listening and playing experience, through education and travel (Swanton 2014b, personal communication). This creates a unique position for jazz musicians in Australia like Swanton who adopt jazz out of affinity with the music, and for whom there is often a dual desire to differentiate and connect themselves to notable American musicians through practice and rhetoric. It is also worth noting that Swanton’s hybrid practice emerged in a national political environment under the Hawke and Keating governments that actively encouraged multiculturalism and the valuing of cultural difference by society (Moran 2017, 71-75). This was a social and political context that provided fertile ground for the development of cultural cosmopolitanism in musical practice.
Swanton also considered becoming an orchestral musician in London after this tour and studied with renowned virtuoso and London Symphony Orchestra Principal Bassist Thomas Martin. Swanton did not pursue a career in classical music. However the knowledge transmitted by Martin, particularly in regards to how to approach the instrument with techniques and principles of relaxation and ways to physically approach the instrument, have been important in facilitating Swanton’s efforts to create a range of sounds to improvise with (Swanton 2014b, personal communication). Swanton also expresses respect for the use of dynamics in the performance of classical music and sees a place for greater attention to them in jazz performance (Swanton 2014a, personal communication).
However, it was the chance discovery of Christopher Small’s Music, Society and Education (1977) at a bookstore near Ealing Tube Station following a bass lesson with Martin that would have the most significant effect on the conceptualisation of process in his music. Swanton’s interest in this book is briefly mentioned in Shand’s Jazz: The Australian Accent as a factor in the development of his approach to improvisation with The Necks (2009). Swanton’s engagement with the text extends much further stimulating his engagement with practices of music- making philosophically. After reading Small’s book Swanton made contact with the publisher and obtained copies of reviews of the book, but more significantly, began
160 corresponding with Small about the book; a correspondence that would intermittently continue, exchanging thoughts on music and recordings, until Small’s passing (Small 1987, 2004 & Swanton 2014b, personal communication). Small’s work helped Swanton formulate a conception or philosophy, which focuses on the processes as the music’s main outcome, positioning style as secondary in The Necks. This focus on process has guided the approach of The Necks and its moves beyond the regular format of the piano trio (Galbraith 2014, 278). The musical performances of approximately fifty minutes to an hour are built almost entirely around process and the ensemble’s piano trio instrumentation. One member begins the performance playing a small musical idea which the other two players eventually join. They very slowly change small aspects of the intertwined fragments that they play until new material emerges. The structure of the ensemble reflects egalitarian thinking with no player soloing and all three simultaneously accompanying.
While process has always been important to jazz, removing solos, song forms and metric organisation as stylistic features of performance and implementing egalitarian or level ensemble roles was a rather radical departure.29 Swanton comments that for him:
focus on the process rather than the outcome- for me personally that was huge, that was the notion that excited me most. In terms of putting the band together (The Necks), I just wanted to pursue a band that only existed in the moment, and the final outcome was irrelevant. (Swanton 2014a, personal communication) Small’s focus on process reinforced Swanton’s experiences playing and listening to music without pre-composed structures and aided in articulating a vision for the improvisational approach used in The Necks. Swanton notes that Miles Davis’ In A Silent Way (1969) and ālāp sections of Indian classical music performances were particularly influential on the sound of the ensemble, although these influences are not always aesthetically apparent. The discovery of Small’s book coincided with a time in which Swanton was also absorbing the sounds of diasporic populations from Britain’s former empire in the UK, particularly reggae and musics from Africa and the Caribbean. The coalescing of these experiences, The Benders’ tour to Europe, studying with Martin and listening to musics in London led to an approach to music
29 This combination has been known to elicit negative responses from well-known jazz critics. The most famous perhaps is a review of The Necks’ performance by John Litweiler reprinted at http://jazz.org.au/the-necks-in-north-america/ .
161 that sought to change musical practice through the process of learning. In Swanton’s case his musical journey provides a backdrop of sound and musical practice which demonstrates respect and value for different musical styles and can be connected to Appiah’s discussion of cosmopolitan attitudes and practices which value difference (2006, xv).
6.2 The catholics: Reimagining the bass through world music
I will now discuss how Swanton’s cosmopolitanism intersects with and is reflected in making music that is overtly hybrid in The catholics. The catholics is an ensemble Swanton has led for over 20 years, and its name reflects the idea of universal commonalities and the encompassing of diverse peoples that drives Swanton’s embrace of a broad range of music. The ensemble’s performances and recordings also reflect the jazz origins of the players’ musical development. The world music influenced compositions are approached with improvisation that uses elements of jazz vocabulary, particularly in the saxophone solos of Sandy Evans and trombone solos of James Greening, or blues vocabulary in the guitar solos of Jonathan Pease. They are usually accompanied by a rhythm section of guitar, drums (Hamish Stuart), percussion (Fabian Hevia) and bass. The sound of The catholics reflects Swanton’s hybrid contemporary cultural experience of performing jazz in Australia.
Swanton interprets trends for the double bass to be more melodic and dexterous by exploring different grooves. He actively attempts to adapt elements of different musics for The catholics’ repertoire and at other times it is a spontaneous or sub-conscious influence. One example of the pieces Swanton creates for The catholics from bass lines developed in the search for different sounds, is a piece called ‘Home’ where he tries to echo the sounds he heard in the music of Mali and Senegal and in Reggae and can be heard to imitate instruments and styles of the kora and mbira (1994). This hybridity has ramifications for the bass role in shifting focus from rhythm and harmonic foundation to rhythmic and melodic construction. Using a combination of stopped and harmonic pitches in thumb position, which seem to work like a cycle, the bass is both melodic and rhythmic with a recurring syncopated G harmonic on the offbeat and tonally important developments mostly on the beat. This is represented visually over the page:
162 Example 12. ‘Home’, Simple (1994). Bass line excerpt. 00:00:43 Transcription.
Audio Example 13. Track 13. Swanton, Lloyd. 1994. ‘Home’, on Simple. Sydney: Bugle Records.
Swanton’s method of developing pieces then involves layering the other instrumental lines on top or around the bass line, and the rhythms of the instruments are often interlocking in a way we might expect of African drumming ensembles or Afro-Cuban music. In this case, the melody played on unison guitars is then layered on top and it is noticeable that they do not use chord based accompaniment30. The bass does not play a recognisable bass line as deriving from jazz, rock or popular music idioms. Instead, the focus on melodic construction in this bass line changes the way the bass is perceived, taking a less functional role and making a contribution to thematic material yet the repetition and groove maintains temporal structure. The repetition aids this change to the place of the bass in the ensemble as it uses the widely understood and mobile aesthetics of popular music. For Swanton’s part he sees the influence in this piece opening up different possibilities for the double bass player that might not otherwise make sense, using the sounds of other instruments in other musics to help rework the sound and role of the bass.
Not all the bass lines Swanton develops are repeated in the same way as on ‘Home’; often they are a starting point that can be subtly varied when accompanying soloists and used as a way of directing and responding to the improvisation of another musician, helping to structure, develop and respond to the improvisations of soloists in real time. During a performance of ‘Yonder’ at Sydney venue 505, Swanton used increasing rhythmic density to encourage Sandy Evans’ saxophone solo to increase the performance’s intensity and narrative drama. This is broadly representative of how he plays when accompanying soloists on The catholics’ more energetic and up tempo numbers. Such an approach is taken on a
30 ‘Home’ can be heard on Simple (The catholics, 1994). For a transcription of the guitar and bass lines together please see the appendix. Appendix (a) Swanton, Lloyd. 1994. ‘Home’, Simple. Bass line and guitar melody excerpt. 00:00:50- 00:01:44 Transcription.
163 recorded version of the piece from which I have transcribed over the page (Swanton 2012). The saxophone and bass line are presented to enable the relationship between the lines to be viewed. Notice that the rhythmic density of the bass increases in relationship to the sax and vice versa over the duration of the solo, peaking just before the end. (Transcription of the saxophone sounds at the register notated)
164 Example 13. ‘Yonder’, Yonder (2012). Saxophone solo and bass line accompaniment excerpt. 00:04:46 – 00:06:12 Transcription.
Audio Example 14. Track 14. Swanton, Lloyd. 2012. ‘Yonder’. on Yonder. Sydney: Bugle Records.
165
Swanton’s interjections are fundamentally polyphonic and make a significant contribution to the performance through their rhythmic nature. Often increases in rhythmic density occur in response to the same development in Evans’ solo, showing the connection of this performance practice to the traditional bass accompanying role. This practice of using improvised accompaniment to help structure solo improvisations is part of the core practices of accompanying and yet they also form part of the way that Swanton leads the ensemble. Swanton uses the role of the bass and its practices, such as polyphonic and rhythmic interjection, as a way of dealing with the fact that he is physically leading the band from behind and sonically from below. Established practices are an effective form of musical communication or starting point, as musical understanding and cohesion is central to successful performance. However, suggestions from the bass can only work as suggestions if the other players choose to go along with them and in all likelihood it
166 is a negotiation over the musical space rather than an instructional form of leadership. Swanton comments:
Absolutely because it’s a case of just you might as well have a drum machine and just play with the loop and these days they have all kinds of responsive things which are quite sophisticated but it’s the… as we were talking about interpreting jazz there’s the people that reckon a swing feel that just plays itself and there’s people that want to chop it up and I have my own personal opinions, the other people I play with do too and it varies from night to night and I guess in my idea of a good performance one of the criteria would we be, ‘Did we all seem to be feeling like it wanted to go where it wanted to go at the same point in time and did it go there? Occasionally there’s creative tensions where someone wants to hold tight to a groove and someone sort of wants to break loose and there’s no reason why that can’t be a valid texture in itself anyway. Night after night you start to feel like a play along record if you’re the one minding the baby. But there’s other factors you know I’ve got a full circle pick up on my bass I find it so articulate and it’s like wow the band can actually hear my ideas that I’m throwing out into the ensemble. Previously it’s like ‘Oh ok, you didn’t hear that’, ‘Oh ok you didn’t hear that either,’ or maybe they were just crappy ideas. But it’s like finally I’ve got this feeling it’s like I can contribute not just play with what I know to be going on but throw in some suggestions. (Swanton 2014b, personal communication) Swanton has also drawn attention to this position in jest at performances, making light of the difficulties in leading from behind and below. While much of Swanton’s approach to the double bass in The catholics is about grooving, it would be wrong to see it as about riffing or repetition for the sake of simplicity. Attempts such as the one described earlier to help structure an improvisation via improvisation require, in Swanton’s view, a global perspective of the performance’s artistic direction and a grasp of the ensemble’s current place in the performance. The creative aspect of improvisation in accompaniment roles is something that underlies good contemporary double bass performances and just keeping time and form is not adequate in The catholics. To this end, Swanton’s presentation of a musical context in which many musics have a voice and multiple identities are applicable reflects a cultural experience and attitude that is cosmopolitan.
In the context of The catholics, Swanton’s critical engagement with what the music means to himself but also to traditional performers of folk music, those who advocate observing certain traditions in jazz performance, and his fellow ensemble members, is again an important aspect of his music-making and improvisation. The different cultural products of people are of interest and value to Swanton and he approaches their music with respect, learning from difference which Appiah and Delanty argue is part of cosmopolitan practice (Appiah 2006, xv & Delanty 2006, 40-41). He engages with it through the lens of the jazz tradition he first gained fluency in with the desire to be creative and not to copy.
167 ‘Home’ is a good example. Here the kinds of music I was listening to at the time was being played on non-western instruments for the most part, I don’t know there might have been a bass guitar in there once and awhile and the part I wrote for the guitar and the slide guitar were parts played on a traditional instrument were I thought that would be nice to hear those instruments playing in that style and you know I found that fruitful. There’s always going to be the issue of whether you have the right to borrow these things, I guess the whole fact that some music is very religious and you’re kind of taking that right out of that context and my answer is just we’re never intending disrespect we’re not plundering, we love that music we think the exuberance with which we tackle it shows that we have respect for it. But if people are going to insist that only they know how to play that, I’d go yeah you’re right but we’re not even attempting to play it with that degree of authority so we will always refer to you for the authoritative version of that particular style but that’s not what we’re trying to do because we’d be silly to even pretend.’ (Swanton 2014b, personal communication) Swanton’s intentions and practices in making music, his recognition of and respect for different opinions of what is appropriate when making music within and across styles reflects cosmopolitan values. It also asserts an agency over identity formation that helps position the group as drawing from jazz and world music’s cultural practices which speaks to a social experience in Australia’s metropolises continually being reshaped by traditions and practices that originate in other localities.
6.3 Vamping: Improvising to a different tune in The Necks
The Necks marks a significant departure in Swanton’s approach to improvisation from the jazz practices he was schooled in. Swanton combines a process-focused approach to music-making, practices from jazz, and techniques from classical double bass to form his approach to improvising in the group. There is also an underlying theme in Swanton’s work congruent with his leadership of The catholics that looks at different conceptions of structuring time and feeling groove. The group primarily uses traditional jazz piano trio instrumentation with Swanton on bass, Chris Abrahams on piano and Tony Buck on Drums. The style of the group is often compared to minimalism and to this effect the aesthetics such as the drone from ālāp sections of Hindustani music can be perceived as the music evolves slowly and primarily uses a static tonal centre. Whereas Galbraith has argued that The Necks extends the jazz piano trio format and eschews the ‘virtuoso profile’ (2014, 278 & 293), this representation does not fully characterise the implications for ensemble roles and how it might effect specific instrumental practices and aesthetics.
168 The formation of The Necks has been well documented in John Shand’s (2009) book Jazz the Australian Accent and Tony Mitchell’s interview ‘The Necks 25 years on: a changing same?’ (Mitchell 2013). However, it is worth noting that The Necks stemmed from a mutual disaffection with the musical role of accompanying frontline solos and a mutual creative desire to explore the possibilities of extended vamps without solos and the context of primarily improvised performance with traditional jazz piano trio instrumentation.
The ensemble disrupts some of the different aesthetic expectations of improvisation in jazz and free improvisation, as its focus is on the process of musical performance, with aesthetics being secondary. The ensemble approach is framed by forty minute to one hour sets and only one performer may start the performance. Small musical ideas are used and they tend to not be complete melodic phrases and song like structures. These musical ideas slowly change in relation to the other players’ responding musical ideas to shape the improvisation. An example of this can be found in The Necks’ performance ‘Ohioan’ in Copenhagen (2014) where Abrahams begins the piece with subtle variations on a musical fragment for a minute and a half before Swanton joins and then Buck.31
The ensemble also responds to practices in contemporary jazz, such as complex harmonies, virtuosic improvisation and individualistic practice with an alternative aesthetic that removes these characteristics by using an ensemble hierarchy that is egalitarian. As such the ensemble reflects thinking emerging from free-jazz particularly Ornette Coleman which has been influential on the performance practices of Swanton. However the trio’s musical performances reflects a hierarchy in which they are equal accompanists rather than simultaneous soloists as in Coleman’s group.
Thinking in terms of minimalism and repetition dominate perceptions of The Necks, but they are just as easily associated with more participatory musical events which emphasise interaction through group entrainment in performance, necessary to the structures of music from Africa both Swanton and Buck were interested in (Richard Williams 2010, https://www.theguardian.com/music/2010/jun/10/the-
31 The performance of Ohioan can be accessed at https://vimeo.com/118171286
169 necks). The performance context of The Necks is a space in which we can see how Swanton develops and reframes musical practices using improvised practices from jazz, western art music and a range of world musics as core musical processes. The examination of two specific techniques will help explicate how the way he has reimagined the bass role utilising cultural hybridity reflects his cultural experiences of the global circulation of music, people and associated identities.
Improvising in The Necks: the lineage and genesis of Swanton’s approach to strumming the bass
Swanton has developed a performance practice on the double bass in The Necks that expands on the traditionally perceived role in jazz. An important point in developing this has been the work of Charlie Haden with Ornette Coleman, in particular the way he created interest without harmonic change. Shand writes in that the inspiration of John Coltrane’s My Favourite Things (1961) and the repetitive bass ostinatos of Steve Davis underpinning vamps and ‘Shhh/ Peaceful’ from Miles Davis’s 1969 masterpiece In a Silent Way led Swanton to the realisation ‘What if everybody stuck to their small, repetitive rhythmic cells, and only advance the change slowly?’ (2009, 217). Shand then goes on to comment that Swanton’s employment of a bass technique from Charlie Haden’s work with Ornette Coleman was integral to Swanton’s ability to maintain movement rhythmically while holding the harmonic movement in this performance context. In this technique Swanton stalls harmonic movement by adopting a pedal point function but maintains forward movement by alternating octaves and inserting rhythms, which accentuate syncopation (Swanton 2014b, personal communication). For instance his demonstration of the technique over the page (Swanton 2014b, personal communication).
170 Example 14. ‘Interview with author’ (2014). Swanton’s interpretation of Charlie Haden pedal point bass line excerpt. Transcription from unpublished interview.
Swanton has taken this performance practice beyond imitation and the acquisition process detailed in Shand’s monograph. It is also more complex than Shand’s suggestion that Swanton thought about ‘removing the conversation’ and ‘staying with the vamp’ (2009, 117). Swanton sees this technique as an interactive performance practice in a rhythmic sense giving him the opportunity under the auspices of improvisation to ‘[pick] out rhythms’ (Swanton 2014b, personal communication).
In this sense I propose we rethink the ensemble hierarchies that break from the constriction of conventional bass player, drummer and piano playing roles all of which are instruments that occupy the role of accompanist in jazz settings. The Necks might not seem overtly conversational because the performance is not held together by regular structures but all ensemble performances are predicated on musical communication. It is also important to consider that The Necks has no predetermined form delineating harmonic movement or organising larger periods of time except for the hour long set length, so interaction does not need to be instantaneous and can be drawn out over time, allowing the improvised process of creating musical ideas to come to the fore. In this way The Necks offers a different musical perspective, which reflects the culmination of long term changes to the ensemble hierarchies of jazz musicians.
Given the significance of this technique I want to contextualise it in the development of Swanton’s approach and situate it as part of a nuanced attempt to create innovative sound and improvise in as many ways as possible: harmonically, rhythmically, texturally and dynamically. After The Necks had been performing
171 some time Swanton recognised that he needed to be able ‘to create more density’ and so adopted a technique from Charlie Haden’s playing where he ‘was just basically strumming with; I suspect the side of his thumb’ (Swanton 2014b, personal communication). An example of Haden using a combination of this technique with strumming in a performance context can be heard on ‘Ramblin’ from Ornette Coleman’s Change of the Century (1960) such as this variation at twelve seconds from the beginning:
Example 15. ‘Ramblin'’, Change of the Century (1960). Bass line excerpt. 00:00:12 Transcription.
Audio Example 15. Track 15. Coleman, Ornette. 1960. ‘Ramblin'’, on Change of the Century. New York: Atlantic.
Haden’s use of strumming is reminiscent of guitar strumming and interrupts a swing walking bass section over which the melody is played by Coleman and Don Cherry.
Swanton demonstrated his interpretation and use of this technique which is transcribed below.
Example 16. ‘Interview with author’ (2014). Swanton’s interpretation of Charlie Haden strumming. Transcription from unpublished interview.
Once Swanton adopted this technique he began to use it creatively and has gone on to expand the concept of maintaining rhythmic momentum while differing harmonic movement.
But my conclusion was he was trying to slow down the rate of harmonic change but still provide forward propulsion and rhythmic interest and so with that kind of realisation that’s really something that I try to do a lot in The Necks. (Swanton 2014b, personal communication)
172 These developments have also occurred through interaction and listening to other double bass players. Swanton continues,
I’ve noticed John Lindberg (American bassist) and he was playing much more with it looked to me like the fingernail (Plays example on bass). I like that, as almost like a ukulele sound and it’s almost like comical and pissy but it cuts through really sharply …and then a revelation I had while I was playing with Madeleine Crispell (American pianist Crispell toured Australia with Lloyd on bass in the early 2000s) a few years ago and I’d never thought of this before because the strumming’s fantastic but it’s quite hard to narrowly focus it on one note. And then I thought well you can do octaves, do that on the lower note and use kind of a variation of the finger nail strum on the higher one (Swanton plays example on bass transcribed below using the thumb on the lower octave and index on upper simultaneously), Example 17. ‘Interview with author’ (2014). Swanton’s development of the octave strumming. Transcription from unpublished interview.
and you can even do tenths. It took a little bit of work I had to emphasise the thumb because it was getting drowned out, but it gives a nice rumble underneath.’ (Swanton 2014b, personal communication) Swanton’s approach to strumming demonstrates his critical engagement with the bass role and the aesthetic possibilities of the instrument. His experimentation is influenced by the practices of Haden on recordings with the Ornette Coleman group, then developed further through interactions with other bass players like Lindberg. His choice of influences shows an engagement with players who have, at times, operated on the peripheries of core jazz styles and bass practice, despite their current esteem, and presented their own reimagining’s of the role and sound of the bass. Such listening diversity and openness to different ways of performing and structuring music inside and outside of jazz has helped to develop an approach that goes beyond the norms of double bass performance practice and the traditional bass accompanist model. The harmonic and rhythmic capacities of this strumming technique have become a core way in which Swanton approaches the ensemble’s level hierarchies in performance and demonstrates the bass’ different role.
173 The development of arco practices in improvisation with The Necks
Swanton’s particular development of arco practices is evidence of the use of learning to stimulate creative practice and affect changes to the established aesthetics and role of the double bass in jazz. It builds on the use of arco melodically in jazz and the exploration of its textural capacities begun by players such as Davis Izenson and is significant because it is both a feature of the performance unlike a bass line and yet helps to drive the trio rhythmically in a way not usually associated with arco practice. Swanton has used the bow particularly in conjunction with tremolo practices to expand his improvisational approach, combining them to manipulate and obfuscate the rate of rhythmic and harmonic movement in improvisation. This technique allows him to explore the subtleties of timbre and dynamics which are often thought difficult to achieve on the double bass. Swanton’s development of a range of tremolo techniques with the bow can be heard on recordings and in performances over the past 10-15 years (Swanton 2014b, personal communication).32 His motivation in developing this approach has also been practical. About 10 years into The Necks he realised that in order to maintain pace with Buck and Abrahams he would need to develop ways to maintain intensity without causing injury during the hour long sets.
I use the bow a lot with The Necks but it’s mostly about what has very much obsessed me the last 10 or 15 years, which is about creating texture or density without getting R.S.I. and without being a totally unpleasant kind of sound. So I’ll do a lot of tremolos and trills for example and the bow is fantastic for that (Swanton 2014a, personal communication) The origins of his palette of rhythmic and textural techniques with the bow are equally as complex as those related to strumming, relying on the knowledge of multiple musics to achieve Swanton’s goals. Swanton recalls his first encounter with the sound of the tremolo bow combination on an Archie Shepp piece with Dave Izenson playing bass33. Indeed, this is a technique that Izenson used widely including on prominent live recordings with Ornette Coleman released as ‘At the “Golden Circle” Volumes One and Two’ (1965). Similarly his double bass teacher in Sydney Dave Ellis played him a recording of Steve Reich’s ‘Music for Eighteen Musicians’ (1978) and some 10-15 years after The Necks were formed when
32 Examples of this practice can be heard on The Necks Open (2013) and Townsville (2007). 33 This approach can be heard on Ornette Coleman’s Golden Circle Vol. 1 & 2 on the track ‘Dawn’ (1965) (Audio Example 20. Track 19) from 1:32 at 2:40 with chords and at 3:32 with string crossing over double stops.
174 experimenting he would find that tremolo bowing in higher registers in concert with Chris Abrahams on the piano could be an effective way to invoke part of that Reichian aesthetic. While Swanton draws attention to these influences it might also be possible to hear in this practice reference to his interest mentioned earlier in the sound aesthetics of Miles Davis’ In a Silent Way (1969) or the drone like tanpura and slow rhythmically attenuated evolution of the melody in ālāp sections of Indian classical music.
The subtleties of Swanton’s tremolo practice are achieved by changing bow speed, physical pressure and duration in different variations of a recurring idea. These actions lead to changes in the music’s volume, to brighter or darker tone colours, and allow the bass player to imply multiple tones when using combinations of double stops. Swanton reveals that this is partly to accommodate the realities of this performance context, which requires responses to problems caused by the piece’s hour-long duration.
An example of this tremolo bowing can be heard on The Necks live album Townsville (2007). From 17 minutes and 30 seconds Swanton can be heard applying tremolo bowing, moving between A and Bb; this gesture varies with Swanton giving the note approximately 12 articulations of on the string bowing. Each time the bowing uses slightly different amounts of pressure: sometimes sounding thick and resonating with bow pressure applied and a medium bow speed, other times it sounds more like a flautando with little pressure and less of the fundamental note resonating. Sometimes the speed of the bow begins the phrase quickly creating increased volume and then decreases in speed creating differentiation in dynamics as the volume decreases. At other times this approach is reversed. The nature of tremolo bowing means the rhythmic articulations, while generally felt in groupings, are ambiguous in a metric sense of pulse but time is still present and felt; it could be in groups of two, three, four or twelve depending on where the rhythmic emphasis is placed. The ambiguity is reinforced by the relationship between Swanton’s tremolo bowing and Tony Buck’s drumming which varies in its articulation of a pulse in three or two on the cymbal: a tension that underlines most swing and blues shuffle feels. Here the tension between groups of three and two is drawn out over a longer period: moving from groupings in two implying an overarching time feel in four/four towards groupings which imply a pulse based around three/four. The
175 relationship between the cymbal and the bowed double bass begins with the approach in Example 18 (00:00:00): the tempo is fairly rubato but rhythmic pulse is still discernible despite the ambiguity.
Example 18. ‘Townsville’, Townsville (2007). Tremolo bowing and cymbal rhythm. 00:00:00 Transcription.
Audio Example 16. Track 16. The Necks. 2007. ‘Townsville’, on Townsville. Sydney: Fish of Milk.
Gradually it moves to this variation approximately 23 seconds later, implying a tension between groupings in three and four.
Example 19. ‘Townsville’, Townsville (2007). Tremolo bowing and cymbal rhythm. 00:00:23 Transcription.
Audio Example 16. Ibid.
The cymbal then asserts a pulse more clearly in three about 44 seconds shown in Example 20 over the page and begins to decrease the density of the groupings it plays leading to Example 21 over the page.
176 Example 20. ‘Townsville’, Townsville (2007). Tremolo bowing and cymbal rhythm. 00:00:44 Transcription.
Audio Example 16. Ibid.
Example 21. ‘Townsville’, Townsville (2007). Tremolo bowing and cymbal rhythm. 00:01:03 Transcription.
Audio Example 16. Ibid.
The use of recurring material with subtle changes in texture and dynamics and the developing rhythmic groupings shows that the entrainment of the three players enables the groove to be felt even if there is not a clear downbeat. In this performance Swanton’s interest in exploring groove inspired by James Brown, Miles Davis and the vamps of John Coltrane are expressed in a decidedly different form.
Swanton’s experience learning performance practices from western classical music is reflected in his ability to explore, and his interest in, the processes of improvising texture and dynamics with the bow. Dynamics were a feature of performance that was valued in his experience rehearsing with the Guildhall School of Music Orchestra. It is important to note that The Necks affords Swanton the opportunity to incorporate the use of the bow to achieve textural and dynamic variation to an extent that he does not find appropriate in more traditional jazz performance contexts. Certainly it is not the predominant method of generating sound on the instrument favoured by jazz double bass players across work when accompanying, and is used mostly when there is less need to outline time firmly
177 such as during a bass solo. The development of these techniques and the sounds that they allow him to explore through improvisation with The Necks is integral to his work and part of his reimagining of the double bass player’s role.
6.4 Back to the Bassics
For Swanton, playing in a variety of ensemble settings with different codes to navigate as a double bass player is an enjoyable part of being a musician who improvises and is an important connection between musical practice and the cultural cosmopolitanism he has developed. Despite developing his strumming and bowing approach for use in The Necks, Swanton’s approaches are not bound to the group and he sensitively uses it in different contexts. During my fieldwork with Swanton these approaches to sound appeared in his performance with The Field and The Philip Johnston Quartet; on recording they can also be heard with The Alister Spence Trio and the Phil Slater Quartet amongst others. Such sensitivity to performance setting requires deploying practices developed in The Necks in different ways to contribute to different performance aesthetics. Swanton does this largely in the more traditional role of bass accompanying. Take, for example, a performance with the blues and jazz influenced ensemble The Field led by Canadian expat Bruce Reid on the 17th of July 2014. Bass lines in this group are not ambiguous and are governed by the notion that the bass is the foundation and should provide the groove using pizzicato. However, during an atmospheric introduction to Reid’s ‘The Mountains So Blue’ Swanton took his tremolo bowing technique and, playing it quietly on the A harmonic on the D string, used it to support the other instruments, particularly rubato guitar work by Reid and John Stuart. In this context the technique becomes part of supportive bass accompaniment, taking a secondary role. When I asked Swanton about spontaneously using the tremolo bowing in this way, in this context he responded that ‘it’s nice to just keep coming up with fresh things that show the other players that you’re committed …you know let’s find something fresh with this piece, not that we’re bored with it, but let’s just see’ (Swanton 2014b, personal communication). The use of this practice is given acceptance partly because of the legitimacy that Swanton has established for it amongst his peers through his
178 performances with The Necks and his position as an acclaimed musician in both the media and amongst his peers (Shand 2009, Fabian 2015, personal communication & Clarke 2015, personal communication). Swanton’s personal positioning as a player who reimagines the role of the bass in positions of leadership or co-leadership in The catholics and The Necks transfers into the other ensembles he plays with. The reputation for reimagining the bass allows for a more flexible relationship to the aesthetics and traditions of the bass role. Swanton still uses the practices of jazz when performing the bass role, but the expectation is that he will bring part of his more exploratory approach in his interpretation. Take for example, Philip Slater’s statement about why he wanted Swanton to join his group. ‘I particularly wanted his sound… Through being a fan of The Necks, and knowing that so much of that aesthetic is just his sound, I can’t deny that I wanted a bit of that. There’s a voodoo to his playing…’ (Phil Slater cited in Shand 2009, 187). In Swanton’s hands the bass may be the instigator of something new, fresh, challenging and exciting to the performance of music using more traditional aesthetic assumptions of the bass role which many musicians desire. Swanton has used his strumming approach extensively in the more traditional bass accompanying role underpinning solos in Slater’s Quartet. Swanton notably deploys his strumming technique to match the textural and rhythmic density of the rest of Slater’s group on their performance of the compositions ‘Tedium’ and ‘The Thousands’ (2007).
However at various points these practices have met with some resistance from other players in performance contexts based on the jazz repertoire and a stricter adherence to the practices disseminated from America in the bop and hard bop periods. Swanton comments about the reaction in other ensembles to his approach to The Necks that:
in terms of other people’s reaction, again it’s a continuum. You know, I don’t often find myself in a situation where I have complete control over my sound, and neither should I, I don’t expect that. I still do freelance hack wedding gigs, some of which I really enjoy, more than the serious engagements, and I still do jazz gigs where it’s quite clear the people I’m playing with want to play capital J jazz, they don’t want to turn the tradition upside down. You know they just want to lock in and make a really nice musical event and as best as I can I’ll try to play that, yeah everything’s negotiable all the time and I guess the trick is to try and find the maximum benefit out of each situation that’s mutually beneficial to everyone. (Swanton 2014a, personal communication) Part of Swanton’s cosmopolitanism is that he is willing to accept, and finds enjoyment in, more than one way of making music, more than one way of
179 improvising, understanding that not everyone he plays with will want to improvise in exactly the same way as him at exactly the same time, and this difference in improvisational approach is desirable. Conversely he also acknowledges that people may come to similar conclusions about approaching improvisation to his work with The Necks. The reactions of those he plays with to his playing style is partly stimulated by knowledge of his work, but also widespread changes in how people make music in terms of groove, syncretism, and the deconstruction of ensemble roles and in established genres like jazz. He says of experiences where he recognises elements of The Necks’ approach in other players’ approach to playing with him:
you know I don’t turn around afterwards and go … really appreciated the tribute you played to that ensemble (The Necks) in that performance, ‘cause they might not be coming from that anyway, it might be people reaching the same conclusions or it might be, as I say, the whole world of music has changed in the 25 or so years since we formed the group and everything’s different now. But back in those early days when I did try to introduce those concepts into a more conventional jazz framework it wasn’t such a comfortable fit for them. (Swanton 2014a, personal communication) The negotiation between musicians over how to deal with the spaces for improvisation in a jazz performance can offer surprising results amongst other open minded practitioners. The ensemble roles usually assigned to instruments in jazz can be altered or manipulated simultaneously acknowledging and engaging with traditions of performance through the practice of improvisation but with flexible ensemble roles. One example that exemplifies this point is Swanton’s work with the Philip Johnston Quartet which features Swanton on double bass, Johnston on saxophones, Alister Spence on piano and Nic Cecire on drums.
The quartet plays a combination of original compositions by saxophonist Johnston, and versions of compositions by Thelonious Monk, Steve Lacy and Andy Biskin which Johnston has arranged for the ensemble. In this performance, on the 19th of July 2014, a number of practices disrupted the preconceived ensemble roles of a jazz performance, and not just from Swanton’s bass playing. On the arrangements Johnston has prepared for the group like ‘Early American’ Swanton’s bass often performed a polyphonic independent function shifting rhythm into and out of phase with the other musicians; however traditional bass accompaniment styles like walking and two feel underpin much of the group’s style. Compositional features like the syncopated bass line that acts almost as a counterpoint to the
180 melody of ‘Early American’, a Biskin tune arranged by Johnston, are important as they are an indicator of the way in which the bass is viewed in the ensemble and importantly they set the parameters for what is acceptable or appropriate in the improvised parts of the piece.
A more level ensemble hierarchy was apparent during a solo by pianist Alister Spence on Steve Lacy’s The Bath. During this solo Spence played a figure built on toggling an interval of a fifth, Swanton responded by engaging in dialogue with the piano over this musical gesture. This musical dialogue prompted further investigation and a discussion with Swanton over the nature of the interaction between him and Spence. Spence and Swanton have played for years together particularly in the Alister Spence Trio and Swanton describes the dynamic between him and Spence in figurative terms as ‘psychic’: implying the ability to pre-empt and understand the direction of each other’s improvising. Such interaction is evident on the trio’s recorded material (2006 & 2012). A similar interplay can be heard between Swanton and Spence on ‘Marco Polo Goes West’ from 4:19-4:24 on the Alister Spence Trio’s Mercury (2006) (Audio Example 17) but reversed with Swanton as soloist and Spence as accompanist. Spence suggests a melodic fragment that breaks from chordal accompaniment which Swanton then continues on the bass which is transcribed below.
Example 22. ‘Marco Polo Goes West’, Mercury (2006). Bass solo and piano comping excerpt. 00:04:19 Transcription.
Audio Example 17. Track 17. Alister Spence Trio. 2006. ‘Marco Polo Goes West’, on Mercury. Sydney: Rufus Records.
181 The enjoyment for the musicians in such interaction is partly because of the ambiguity of the musical and social roles with neither melody nor accompaniment being entirely distinct. Monson has discussed the use of what she calls ‘secondary melodies or riffs’ as an accompanying device in the rhythm section which fill the space between a soloist’s phrases (Monson 1996, 32), but using this terminology to describe this situation would suggest either too formal an approach with dominant melodic line and secondary melodic line or a background instrument which fills only when the soloist doesn’t play. This does not seem to adequately describe the improvised interaction and the relationship between the two musicians’ performances which are both foregrounded in the performance. The relationship between the instrumental roles in the ensemble is driven not just by influences but personal relationships and shared playing and listening experiences. These factors are integral to determining what a double bass player will improvise as a soloist or accompanist. It is conceivable that the practice of improvisation in contemporary jazz allows the soloist/bass player roles to be disrupted if only momentarily in more traditional ensemble hierarchies. However the acceptance of this disruption of the ensemble roles may in part depend on the prior musical relationships and reputations of the musicians performing. In cases like this it would be reasonable to assume that Swanton’s recognised capacity for reimagining the bass in ensembles like The Necks would be a key factor in allowing greater exploration of sound and the ensemble roles.
Back to bassics: accompanying in hybrid contexts
During August of 2014 Swanton organised for me to observe rehearsals he took part in with Mara!. The rehearsals raised the issue of how a double bass player would approach different types of music-making and address the challenges of music with improvisation in accompaniment role. Mara! is a long established ensemble which has developed an aesthetic around the members involved including: Mara Kiek, an expert in Bulgarian vocal music, who also plays a large drum called the Tapan; Liew Kiek, who performs on bouzouki; Sandy Evans, on saxophones; Paul Cutlan, on saxophones and clarinet; and since the formation of the ensemble, Steve Elphick,
182 on double bass. Swanton, however, would be paying the bass for some upcoming concerts.
According to Swanton, Liew and Mara are more ‘traditionally’ based than how he approaches The catholics and the music ranges right from Ireland to Turkey incorporating a lot of European and Middle Eastern folk music.
So they brought jazz musicians in onto that tradition, the bass player in particular and the horn players they’re bringing a jazz sensibility but also enough respect for the tradition that it just doesn’t sound like a bad fit. I guess in The catholics I’m much more diffuse, I’m just grabbing, people might say well you’re in this shallowly looking at everything but I just love a lot of music from all over the world and I’ll write a piece that draws on an Indian, Caribbean or South American music.’ (Swanton 2014b, personal communication) Again the cosmopolitan concept of respect for others’ musical practices and the energy to be innovative or creative arises but with different approaches. Much of the music played at the rehearsals focused on combining Bulgarian repertoire with jazz improvisation practices for the premiere of a new piece by composer Laura Bishop, ‘Razdyala’, with the Martenitsa choir, and rehearsal of previously performed and recorded repertoire.
Across the repertoire Swanton was faced with the issue of contributing his own approach to the music, meeting the requirements of the ensemble leader and composer, and lastly the perception of the other ensemble members about what the bass should and would do. When rehearsing the complex cross-cultural music, which uses shifting rhythmic structures, the issues raised and alterations made usually involved unwritten and previously unspoken expectations.
There was one point in the first rehearsal where the ensemble had expected an alto part in unison with the bass and the ensemble had assumed it was in the written music but it was not. Later on I asked Swanton how this effected his improvising,
Yeah that’s a can of worms in a way, and yeah that’s a good example because Mara’s group has such a history, they’ve been around for thirty years and for almost the whole time the bass player has been Steve. Like he has been central to the sound. Ironically I was actually in the group before him, I was actually in the group before it was called MARA! we did a few shows in the early 1980s… I mean there’s a lot of bass players that I respect and Steve would be absolutely at the top of the list. I love his bass playing. ... So I’m more than happy to take his cue where he’s taken a piece, you know I’ll listen to the recording and go ‘works fine you know’, but on the night you always…, there’s still heaps of…, it’s not like the way he played it on the recording is the way he played it every night and the pieces have evolved through that. So that can be an issue,’ (Swanton 2014b, personal communication)
183 The above quote reminded me of a perspective Swanton was keen to convey from the start of my fieldwork with him. Performance, especially its improvisation for bass players, is contingent on the inter-subjectivities at play in the ensemble: people’s attitudes’ and preferences effect what is played. The perception of what the bass should do in Mara! was largely based on how Elphick, the ensemble’s long time bass player, had approached the music from the perspective of the rest of the ensemble and Swanton. In a situation like this performance and improvisation must juggle concepts of personal voice with ensemble unity and collective concepts of what is appropriate. Such an occurrence underscores the importance of personal approaches in the roles and aesthetics developed by ensembles making hybrid music.
Swanton must be willing to experiment with and alter his approach to improvisation in the piece and also be open to the perspectives of the bandleader, composer and other ensemble members who each have different perspectives on how he should improvise. According to Swanton making sense of what people want and being willing to work on these things is part of an unwritten contract amongst the ensemble performing this cross-cultural music. This perspective is an integral part of bringing a cosmopolitan practice and attitude to the level of ensemble rehearsal and performance. Negotiation over your own and others’ music-making involves both an acceptance of difference and the ability to demonstrate personal agency.
6.7 Listening for meaning
This case study of Swanton’s musical practice demonstrates his cosmopolitanism through his embrace and learning of diverse musical cultures: the most audible trait of this is the hybridity in The catholics and The Necks. The situating of this musical hybridity as part of a cosmopolitan approach requires knowledge of the attitudes and practices with which the music is formed. It is further established by the critical way in which Swanton has engaged with different musics including jazz, and how the combination of them is used in his work to put forward alternative models of musical practice that emphasise the origins of specific practices and the hybrid nature of their development and use. Despite looking beyond the genre borders of
184 Jazz, Swanton’s approach to improvisation is built from jazz practices and these remain important even when not strictly playing jazz.
It’s sort of the musical language that I first got any degree of facility in and I kind of then got to a point where I don’t want to focus on this any further and I diversified in the late 80s and went off on other tangents, but I still feel confident in saying I understand the language just maybe don’t speak it with quite the same fluency that some people do. (Swanton 2014b, personal communication) Swanton’s work in The Necks presents an alternative way of using improvisation and moving into a different performance and cultural space by eschewing jazz’s repertoire and forms. The changes to the way musical roles are structured in the ensemble effects the aesthetic of the bass and moves in importance beyond the time-keeping role. The group also presents itself differently from jazz by the lack of features like walking bass and swing rhythms immediately identifiable with jazz. However Swanton does not argue it is free music or a democratic and non- structured mode of improvising without a prior reference point. This is important, as The Necks’ characteristics have made it a marketable and sustainable project over 26 years, as has its formative links to various traditions of performance (Galbraith 2014, 293). The result is a different vision of the bass that does not accompany or solo. Such a level ensemble hierarchy means that Swanton can draw on the arco and strumming practices he has developed that would not be seen as appropriate in traditional performance contexts. Alternatively when Swanton draws on diverse musical practices and jazz in leading The catholics this combines with his questioning of ensemble roles, leading him to reimagine the role of the bass and its aesthetics.
In experiencing The catholics’ performances and listening to their recordings, Swanton’s cosmopolitanism is heard in the hybridity used as he creates something new while maintaining respect for others. This is communicated musically through the development and improvised engagement with different sounds from around the world. However, it is the respectful and enthusiastic fashion in which the musics are used that makes it cosmopolitan in terms of attitude and ethics. The competency in musical codes to a certain extent demonstrates cosmopolitan practice as Hannerz has discussed (1990, 238 & 247) as does the way in which Swanton makes meaning of this work foregrounded by his name for the band, The catholics. Georgina Born has pointed to affect, embodiment and
185 entrainment as important parts of the way that music materialises identities in the social sphere given the absence of material sound objects (2011, 377). In this way Swanton’s use of diverse musical styles in his exploration of the bass materialises identities that point to the acceptance of multiple social and cultural positions by the diverse sources in the band’s music. Interestingly this respectful embrace of other styles is an approach recognised by his former ensemble colleague and fellow bass player Waldo Garrido. Garrido sees Swanton’s investigation of musical styles, particularly through travel and his respectful engagement through learning, as an indication of ethical behaviour in the ensemble’s purpose and counter to trends in hybrid jazz performances being labelled World Music for financial purposes (Garrido 2015, personal communication). Garrido’s perspective reflects the centrality of respect in the intentions and processes a musician uses to how they are perceived and the meanings their performances communicate which helps to determine Swanton’s cosmopolitanism.
Swanton does not claim complete cultural authenticity over the styles he uses, however his cosmopolitan engagement with these musics evokes a sense of personal creative authenticity sensitive to practitioners of these cultures, which others perceive. Authenticity’s relationship to world music and hybrid cultural practices is a topic that will be discussed in greater detail, illuminated by the developing practice of Jessica Dunn in the next chapter. It is worth noting that a perception of individual authenticity is foregrounded in Swanton’s cosmopolitan ethics of approaching music which can be seen in his development historically and reflexively by his peers. Complete connection to the historical and cultural authenticity of the styles, which Swanton draws on is not part of his aims in engaging with world music, and we can see from his performances that these musics are interpreted through his foundations in jazz’s musical practices. The sense that Swanton is contributing something to the hybrid through his expertise in jazz is partly what enables him to utilise these musics with a certain amount of validity.
As I discussed in the literature review the invocation of Australian nationality in regards to local musicians’ hybrid practices has previously run aground. This is due to the gap between the reality of hybrid practice as originating from multiple sources and the need to establish characteristics that might make local
186 musicians’ work coalesce around a national identity. In this locality, jazz and world music from recordings is coupled with the important effect of diasporic migrant communities on the diversity of the music performances audible in Australia and the migratory movements of professional musicians (Jordan 2010, 3-4). Two factors are fused in making this music: style learnt knowledge from recorded music and styles learnt by face-to-face encounters in Swanton’s experience at home and when travelling, such as Cuban music. When Swanton engages with world musics it is done so respectfully, and shows how the identities of local jazz musicians reflect and affect cultural hybridity at home and across borders. This affinity with other musicians around the world demonstrates that tension exists between musician’s practices, rhetoric about musical performance and views of identity in line with methodological nationalism.
A view of these practices in terms of cosmopolitanism can allow us to understand how such a hybridity is characteristic of much music-making in Australian metropolises but not unique to them. The identities this practice contributes to forming for musicians are significant, however, in that they speak to the aspiration of musicians born in Australia such as Swanton, to accept, learn from and embrace different cultural traditions and present them artistically.
The ramifications of Swanton’s practice and rhetoric for the formation of cultural meaning are both bound up in intercultural histories of diaspora, migration and trade which point to interaction as a core component of cultural practices leading to jazz and the circulation of world music (Gilroy 1993 & Stanyek 2004), and what meaning a musical practice with such connection might take in the local context. Through the sounds of world music employed from Mali, Senegal, Cuba and the Caribbean, Swanton centralises diverse cultural interaction as a reality of cultural experience in Australia, problematising and pluralising the formation of identity that takes the nation as its core methodological unit. The cosmopolitan identity that results from Swanton’s work is highlighted by the ability to acquire competency in musical-cultural practice but this is distinct from an identity grounded in the social contexts from which the musics originate, a characteristic of cosmopolitanism noted by Hannerz (1990).
187 Swanton’s performance contexts run counter to identities perpetuated by nationalism but there is a sense in which these jazz practices are occurring articulated in relationship to this imagined concept of a coherent nation and a wariness of being subsumed in a global concept of jazz (Swanton 2014b, personal communication). The distinction Swanton sees between his context of performance as Anglo-Australian and that of the specific political and social meanings of jazz’s performance by African-American musicians in the U.S is an important one to understand the social meanings of his work. While jazz’s associations with social engagement in the U.S are well understood, its contemporary practice in Australia carries little of this politics.
The discourse of jazz musicians in Australia has tended to differentiate itself from American jazz musicians as a form of independence from aspects of performance tradition and to construct identities that are more locally relevant (Evans 2014, Rose, 2016 & Robson 2014). However, while social differentiation is important to Swanton and others the construction of a local musical vernacular is not the goal of his work. Instead it can be observed that the local meanings offered by the practice of jazz and the incorporation of world music in a hybrid performance context contribute to cosmopolitan perspectives of local social experience. As a result Swanton’s music-making foregrounds cosmopolitan attitude and practice as methods of shaping social and musical meaning by performing music with audible cultural difference.
188 Chapter Seven
Sounding the alarm: Jessica Dunn and Sirens Big Band
In this chapter I address the hybrid music-making of Jessica Dunn, double bassist and leader of the Sirens Big Band. I explore her approach to music-making, in relation to notions of authenticity and how this is involved in constituting a cultural identity, which demonstrates both cultural cosmopolitanism and socio-political cosmopolitanism. The chapter begins by briefly contextualising the case study in relation to how Dunn and Sirens Big Band have positioned themselves on the issue of gender while simultaneously establishing a musical and social position that embraces cultural diversity. Gender is not a focus of discussion amongst musicians because of the privileged position of males in the music scene and in society more broadly. However, for female and trans performers, gender emerges as an important discourse that can be used to intervene in the local music scene and society more broadly. Dunn and Sirens’ critical intervention into the jazz scene asserts that female and trans performers are not defined by their gender in terms of musical practice, while also calling for greater acceptance of marginalised social groups. I then outline a theoretical framework for interpreting how authenticity operates in Dunn and the Sirens’ work which experientially validates the Sirens’ hybrid music making and reinforces the group’s calls for social and gender equality. Following this I use the concept of authenticity to explore how Dunn’s music-making negotiates cross-cultural and hybrid performance contexts which can create specific challenges for the bass player which require the development of appropriate performance practices. I then conclude by drawing together how Dunn’s hybrid and cosmopolitan musical practice reflects the group’s multicultural aims and social activities.
When examining Dunn’s hybrid and cosmopolitan approach I draw on her work in collaboration with saxophonist Sandy Evans and ‘ud player Mohammed Youssef. I ultimately argue that the experiential aspect of these collaborations helps to confer cultural authenticity on Dunn and the group: as ambassadors for women in jazz performance and as knowledgeable and respectful practitioners/students of diverse styles. Such a musical and social practice constitutes a cosmopolitanism both through the establishment of musical authenticity in hybrid performance and through active positioning on socio-political issues. I then use the concept of authenticity to explore how Dunn’s music-making negotiates cross-cultural and hybrid performance contexts which can create specific challenges for the bass player which require the development of appropriate performance practices. I
189 conclude by drawing together how Dunn’s hybrid and cosmopolitan musical practice both reflects the group’s multicultural aims and social activities.
7.1 Sounding the Alarm: The Formation of Sirens Big Band – Negotiating gender locally in contemporary jazz
Sirens Big Band was formed in 2009 by Dunn and saxophonist composer Harri Harding after initially meeting in the Sydney Improvised Music Association’s Young Women in Jazz Program and then winning the Jann Rutherford Memorial Award. Following this Dunn would go on to study at the Conservatorium of Music while also leading the ensemble. The Jann Rutherford Memorial Award ‘was devised to assist and encourage aspiring upcoming women jazz musicians.’ (Jann Rutherford Memorial Award 2014) and provides mentorship by experienced female jazz musicians, financial assistance and industry connections (Zolin 2013). The encouragement of their mentor, acclaimed musician Dr. Sandy Evans OAM, was also important in the formation of the band. According to the ensemble’s press pack the group’s initial all-female line up was because, ‘The group was formed as a direct response to the underrepresentation of women in the jazz music community’ (Sirens Big Band 2014).34 In 2013 Dunn told the Australian Jazz.Net website,
There are arguments that creating all-female ensembles and jazz festivals are counter- productive to ‘the cause'; that the focus should be not about segregating the sexes, but bringing them together. Of course we don’t want to segregate ourselves but there is a necessity to first boost the number of female musicians – and their visibility – by creating a space for them to play, perform, arrange and compose. Creating a community of female musicians is a really important part of this process and that is one of Sirens’ goals. We want to be a band in the truest sense of the word; a supportive space where everyone’s personality and experiences contribute to the music that is made. It’s particularly interesting to hear audience members say that the music that results is not what they expected – whether this is based on preconceived gender perceptions, I’m not entirely sure. (Zolin 2013)
At the core of the discourse surrounding the Sirens are notions of collectivity and solidarity in creating a forum and an audience for female jazz musicians. The inequitable representation of female jazz musicians in proportion to their male counterparts is an issue that both the memorial award and Sirens Big Band attempt to address by providing performance opportunities and industry connections. Dunn
34 Sirens Big Band is no longer an all-female group after a member of the group transitioning.
190 and the ensemble help to promote associations between themselves and more established musicians, creating performance opportunities which confer cultural authenticity by sharing the stage with more well-known or established musicians to establish legitimacy through public commendation of abilities.
Dunn’s experience shows that the association of particular gendered tropes in jazz and female musicians with particular sound aesthetics has changed over time. However gendered assumptions about what musical sounds female performers should make mean that the Sirens’ performance of high energy improvisation across a range of styles, from free improvisation to cross-cultural and rhythmically complex arrangements, can sometimes confound expectations. When discussing the political and social objectives and whether gender effects the sound of the ensemble Sirens, Dunn related an incident in which audience members directly communicated their surprise and perhaps unhappiness at what the group performed, remarking that the music was ‘not what I expected from a bunch of women’ (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). However, my conversations with Dunn explored how the relationship between the ensemble’s initial all-female line-up and its social identity is far more complex than this one issue. According to Dunn ‘I guess it’s interesting like, I guess we have no choice but to agree with everyone when they’re like ‘Oh you’re making quite the statement having so many women’. I guess as far as gender politics go… that in itself is a statement.’ (Dunn 2014a, personal communication). Dunn is keen to balance this with the belief that the sound the ensemble produces is not gendered and the ensemble is not a novelty entertainment due to its all-female line up. In this sense, female jazz musicians’ musical practice is far different from that of the 1920s and 30s all-female bands examined in the work of Tucker (2000) and McGee (2008) and yet they must continually deal with enduring public perceptions of female jazz performance as a type of novelty. However Dunn still sees a need to address the social issue of the limited representation of women in the jazz performance community. The social importance of the increased representation of women in jazz performance to Dunn is underscored by the ensemble providing mentorship of female jazz musicians under the auspices of the Jan Rutherford Mentorship program (Sirens Big Band 2014).
191 7.2 Authenticity in relation to cross-cultural performance
Notions of authenticity have come to the fore in relation to the study of World Music, Traditional Musics and Western Popular Music. As a subject of analysis its usage varies greatly and often goes undefined in discussions of musical styles, their attendant sound and cultural aesthetics, and the musical practices that constitute them. However, Solis has argued that ideas of authenticity are also of importance to the way in which we understand the consumption of listeners and the practices of musicians in styles such as jazz and blues (2010). Using cultural theory and a variety of methodologies, these studies of authenticity attempt to understand the power relations and politics at play in how the term is used in what are usually referred to as traditional cultures and those seen as hybrid. Overwhelmingly ethnomusicologists have interrogated the seemingly dichotomous relationship of hybridity and authenticity in world music and pointed to its social construction in terms of exoticism, colonialism and cultural imperialism (Erlman 2002, Feld 2000, Bohlman 2003 & Meintjes 1990). Issues of authenticity are also closely associated with questions of ownership, authorship and cultural and musical authority. Notable in the discussion of schizophonia and recording technology is the question of who has the right to use musical sounds from different cultural sources and how this is almost an inevitable reality of a globally interconnected musical experience. Feld has pointed out how the ethics of authorship are often ignored in regards to foreign and exotic sources in his discussion of Deep Forest (2000), but the same processes and technological mechanisms used here can be used for very different purposes to assert complex socio-cultural identities in places and experiences far removed from wealth and privilege, as shown in his ethnographic work with jazz musicians in Accra, Ghana (2012).
The relationship between tradition and hybridity has been critiqued from a variety of perspectives, notably by Bohlman in his discussion of how tradition is a concept which is actually deployed in the contemporary for contemporary purposes, while hybridity, which is often held in suspicion, is actually a normal state of cultural practice (2002, 21). In this sense tradition is often an idea which is raised to legitimise or conserve particular cultural practices and stake out their value or contribution to communities. The term authenticity can be critiqued in much the same way: Sarah Weiss in her article ‘Listening to the World but Hearing
192 Ourselves: Hybridity and Perceptions of Authenticity in World Music’ (2014) reaches similar conclusions based on research into how her world music students perceive authenticity in recordings of styles with which they have limited knowledge. Weiss suggests that ‘perceptions of authenticity are malleable and political’ and always perceived as authentic in relation to specific contextual circumstances and demographics of sound producer and listener. As such she argues, using Stross’ hybridity cycle, that authenticity should be re-examined in terms of the ‘continuity and longevity of tradition’ (2014, 513-514). This argument holds that what is authentic is constantly changing over time based on perceived value and currency as contemporary cultural and musical practice. Weiss’s article argues that authenticity is dependent on interaction between the position of the listener and performer mediated by the music and the discourse that surrounds it (2014). This is an important position that underpins the coming discussion of Dunn’s musical and social practice in which authenticity is a key component in how her musical-social practices constitute a culturally cosmopolitan and hybrid identity.
Stevens contends along similar lines in her discussion of Japanese popular music that ‘authenticity is spontaneously performed, directly perceived, and there is direct human interaction between performer and audience … authenticity if it can be defined in words, revolves around the quality of human relation in the production and experience of music.’ (Stevens 2008, 125). While I would contend that the construction of authentic musical performance is not entirely as clear cut, this definition of authenticity could be effectively situated in Georgina Born’s discussion of the musical imaginary, as working to ‘prefigure, crystallize or potentialise emergent, real forms of social identity’, at times as a ‘imaginary figuration of socio-cultural identities’, at times as a repression of ‘transformation and alternatives’ and ‘lastly all in relation to the macro-historical discourse of reinterpretation and then reinsertion into the changing socio-cultural formation’ (2000, 35-36). A broader definition of authenticity needs to accept that much musical meaning, be it in relation to authenticity or otherwise, is developed outside performance by macro-historical discourse on music: for instance the discussions of rock music in terms of a narrative of authenticity and subsequent counter claims (Tetzlaff 1994) and jazz in terms of modernity and innovation (Deveaux 1991 and Giddins and Deveaux 2009).
193 If we accept that authenticity is used to describe human relation in the production and experience of music, it is also necessary to see how this is tied up in associations and lineages to particular traditions, composers, and past performers which socially frame how performances are experienced. Practices and sounds from these sources are used by musicians almost universally and at times without conscious knowledge. This is shown in Barker and Taylor’s discussion of popular examples such as Kurt Cobain who drew on the musical composition and mythological identity of Leadbelly to assert a more ‘pure’ musical identity in the form of what is often seen as a more primitive musical style, the blues (Barker and Taylor 2007, 21-23). While the problematic politics of this situation does not impact this study, the process at play is important to highlight. The use of musical material of a deceased musician, Leadbelly, conferred an authenticity on another by establishing a connection to a lineage of musical and social experience which was not Cobain’s. In many respects this is why contemporary jazz musicians arrange particular songs by particular performers and composers: to establish cultural authenticity and thereby cultural capital to position their work successfully.
Solis has outlined how covers have been used as a defining practice of rock music to confer cultural capital. This has been primarily premised on the uniqueness of the individual; take the example Solis cites of Elvis Presley’s ability to make the practice of covering, about ‘his transgressive authenticity as a singer’ rather than the cultural authenticity of the previous version. In this way the ‘cultural capital of the original’ allowed Presley to establish his own ‘credibility and authenticity’ (2010, 300). Solis argues that through this practice of covering, rock musician’s networks of reference are established that connect the musicians to other performers. While this cannot be applied directly to jazz because of the tendency not to cover, but to reversion, the authenticating process seems to be reflected in practices such as repertoire selection and ensemble member choice (Solis 2010, 302-303). Such an authenticity in jazz is not based on the linear response to specific texts as in rock, but on the combination of repertoire, collaborators and the reference network of broader associations with musicians that help to infer historical and cultural authenticity on a performance. The authenticity of the performance used is also determined by the practices, aesthetics and presentation that are perceived as authentic because of the experience. As such, in cross-cultural and intercultural
194 situations, like those Dunn is involved in, source material and origins come to the fore and are an important site for explaining how the concept of authenticity is implicated in hybrid contexts.
Mechanisms to establish authenticity operate in numerous ways and are important in understanding how musicians and musical practices are connected and form identities in performance. Bigenho suggests three types of authenticity should be discussed (in anthropology and ethnomusicology): ‘experiential authenticity’, as in an experience in performance that feels authentic; ‘cultural-historical authenticity’, in terms of cultural as a form of boundary including or excluding participants and history as a way of situating musicians in a historical trajectory; and lastly ‘unique authenticity’ this is the ‘romantic individualised view of artistic production’ which influences western authorship and copyright (2002, 20). This view of authenticity differentiates between art created by individuals and culture created by collectives. Unique authenticity often centres around the removal of sound from its source reframing music-making in terms of discourse around the individual as innovative and is often connected to technological mediation of musical performance. Bigenho’s assignation of different types of authenticity is a useful tool for analysis primarily because it allows us to see authenticity as it is mediated by cultural practices, which are hybrid. The use of cultural practices, which consciously evoke authenticity is a way that hybrid cultural practice can be legitimised. Musical practice in the performative present, the interactions that often regulate music-making outside performance in rehearsal, student teacher relationships and lastly the macro-historical discourse around music become grounds on which such a process can be revealed. As such in this discussion I suggest that the establishment of both cultural and individual authenticity is paramount to achieving artistic success and a significant way in which Dunn’s cosmopolitanism can be perceived. When this is mediated by cross-cultural interaction the establishment of authenticity acts to socially approve the adoption of performance practices across cultures and the permission to use musical practices from a musical culture creatively. This process is contingent on the demonstration of competency of musical knowledge seen as cosmopolitan by Hannerz (1990) and is akin to Mantle Hood’s notion of bi-musicality (1960); such authenticity is
195 determined by the co-presence of cultural intermediaries and authorities which confer approval on performance.
7.3 Multicultural Objectives, cosmopolitanism and local authenticity
Under the direction of bassist, Jessica Dunn, Sirens Big Band has a unique Australian voice that explores the intersection of traditional Australian Jazz with the rich musical traditions of our multicultural society (Sirens Big Band 2014).
Dunn along with Harding founded Sirens big band knowing that they ‘weren’t going to play traditional big band music or even necessarily what contemporary big band is sounding like now’ due to their ‘interests outside of jazz per se’ (Dunn 2014a, personal communication). Like their mentor, Evans, their performances and recordings traverse a range of musical cultures: the ensemble performs repertoire that incorporates elements from Balkan music ‘Balkanator’ (Kirkwood, 2012), Carnatic music ‘Kali and the Time of Change’ (Evans, 2012b), Malian influenced music such as Jenna Cave’s ‘Odd Time in Mali’ and Ethiopian folk music in Ruth Wells’ ‘Hawassa to Addis’ (2012) as well as their most recent collaboration with ‘ud player Mohammed Youssef, fusing big band and Arabic music. Involved in this concept are two further aspects articulated in the group’s press: firstly, that Australia is multicultural and that the music Sirens play should reflect that, and secondly that the Sirens position their music outside mainstream or traditional concepts of jazz styles and as overtly cross-cultural, which helps to materialise a cosmopolitan cultural identity.
Dunn says of the band ‘that it’s a group of people that really love playing together, it’s really about making music first’ (Dunn 2014a, personal communication) and that this is what brings the musicians together. However she recognises that some of the group’s material carries more overt social messages that call for inequalities to be addressed both here and abroad. In particular ‘Kali and The Time of Change’ includes a rap by Harrison Harding which addresses issues of gender inequality, conflict in the Middle East and ‘western indifference’ (Harding 2012) and calls for a cosmopolitan approach to social relations between different cultural groups: ‘coz we’re loving over barriers/ and high walls/ love and unity help
196 us to stand tall, peace and serenity are for us all/ some of us are born in countries where there’s no choice at all’ (Harding 2012).
Dunn says the piece is ‘really quite political’ and speaks of broader social and political objectives in the band ‘because …some people (band members) have spent a lot of time in those areas of the world where there is political unrest. I think it’s important to the people in the band so its sort of coming through in a way’ (Dunn 2014a, personal communication). For Dunn the primary concern is the music the ensemble creates; however, she recognises that because of the ensemble members’ musical influences and social experiences, with Harding and Wells undertaking field/aid work in areas of political unrest such as Palestine and Ethiopia, this social aspect comes through in the music. I would venture that the inclusion of material such as Harding’s rap and the offering of mentorships to young female jazz musicians and the conducting of music workshops for migrant and refugee women helps to materialise an identity for Dunn and Sirens that links the music the ensemble performs to a purpose of social and gender equality. Dunn’s work cross-culturally gains a greater sense of authenticity and authority because the discourse and social activities contextualise this meaning in socially progressive values associated with cosmopolitanism. While the music itself has been overtly political in ‘Kali and the Time of Change’, and as a result Sirens’ musical performances and social activism intermingle, at other times, cosmopolitan cultural practice is reflected more subtly in the sounds and musical practices Dunn uses.
7.4 Leading the Sirens in Rehearsal and Performance
Leading a big band from the bass chair has many challenges not least of which is actual positioning on stage. In the previous chapter I discussed how these issues effected the playing of Dave Holland and the need to maintain the bass accompaniment role to some degree which was implied in his comments. When leading the big band Dunn is actually less likely to takes solos in order to give solo space to the other musicians. Leading is often a very practical role that requires organisation. As Dunn is behind most of the ensemble when playing, leadership has two forms: rehearsal leadership where she is very active, and performance
197 leadership which involves the social functions of announcing music and talking with the audience and the subtleties of musical communication. As a result of Dunn being at the rear of the ensemble and difficult to see as opposed to being clearly visible as in a small ensemble, the directing of cues is distributed amongst ensemble members clearly visible to the whole band after discussion about the timing and nature of the cue and its purpose. In order to achieve her creative goals Dunn says that,
I feel like I need to be on top of the music if I’m going to lead it obviously and I need to be across how to play it and how to approach it and if I’m going to offer any sort of help to how other people are going to approach it then I need to be relatively clear on some possibilities. (Dunn 2014a, personal communication)
The role of the double bass in big bands has traditionally been associated with providing the foundation of rhythmic and tonal support for the rest of the ensemble when accompanying and is generally thought to be more restricted in the use of improvisation. Contemporary bass playing in small ensembles has tended to break down perceived restrictions on what and how the bass player can play, often tending towards the interactive, and while this trend has flowed over into the big band genre to some extent, with notable examples such as bass player leader Dave Holland35 taking a highly interactive approach to accompaniment practices with his big band, there are unique concerns in this performance context that mean the pulse oriented bass accompaniment role has endured. Predominant thinking about big bands remains similar to concepts of big band rhythm sections in the swing era as it is far more difficult to coordinate larger numbers of players rhythmically; the rhythm section must therefore push the ensemble. Dunn seems to desire to balance this foundational role with opportunities to open up the roles of the rhythm section. Dunn speaks of her approach with the band as:
we’ve talked about it a lot, maybe one of the things I like least about big band is it can be really locked in and really controlled and we have been sort of trying to listen. I like the contrast though, because it can be that sometimes, a need for that with things that are through composed, but contrasting that with more open sections. (Dunn 2014a, personal communication)
35 Holland takes a highly interactive approach to accompaniment practices with his big band for example see ‘Free for All’ (2005) but always maintains a focus on the groove even if it is unconventional.
198 I asked Dunn about her approach in the use of free improvisation to begin Wells’ saxophone solo both live and on the recording of ‘Hawasa to Adis’ and how the use of this approach to improvisation in a big band came about.
I don’t think when she (Wells) first wrote it we did that, I’m not sure how it came about. That whole idea of when you’re a big band soloist, ‘oh I’ve got my 32 bars coming up for the whole gig and then I stand up and its gotta’ be good coz that’s all I’ve got’ and that anxiety surrounding that improvising and trying to find ways to move away from that so that it does free up a little bit. (Dunn 2014a, personal communication)
Improvisation in big bands can be seen as restricted largely because of the pre- composed temporal and harmonic structure including horn backings, which lead to the solo’s conclusion. Replacing this structure with a more relaxed approach to temporal and spatial organisation inspired by free improvisation provides a recognisable and legitimised way to open up an otherwise restrictive space for improvisation. The piece moves through several sections. It begins with a call and response vocal melody between vocalist-guitarist Milan Ring and the rest of the band accompanied by the rhythm section, followed by a bass solo that occurs in time but with accompaniment only from Lauren Benson on the drums. This is followed by a tightly arranged and dramatic shout chorus for the horn section, which abruptly ends. Wells then interacts with the rhythm section in free time occasionally suggesting fragments of the original melody36, until the riff accompaniment that had underscored the shout chorus begins and the shout chorus is eventually reprised following the solo. The effect is to include an approach to improvising that is atmospheric and partly contingent on the performance’s context. Regardless of this it disrupts the usual time-keeping accompaniment of the big band ensemble, juxtaposing an ephemeral practice with those that are tightly arranged.
However this approach has its own problems, as it requires each musician to be attuned to the many styles the ensemble is using in performance in order to control the improvisation’s development, and ultimately return the group to the pre- composed structure. Here again the adherence to the practices and aesthetics of the piece are driven by notions of performing in ways that will be perceived as having stylistic and cultural authenticity. Dunn continues:
But that’s taken time too because Ruth has really played a lot of freely improvised music but Lauren on the drums hadn’t so it took a bit of time to realise that maybe it’s better to not
36 Note that live performances feature more extended improvisation than the recorded version.
199 play so much at the beginning. I think when we first started doing things like that there was maybe a lot of over playing. (Dunn 2014a, personal communication)
The group aspect of large ensemble performance requires mediation of different levels of musical knowledge to be successful, a point I will explore further in this chapter. Maintaining the objectives of this cosmopolitan approach to music-making in the context of 17 musicians often requires the sharing of knowledge and the acceptance of different talents and capacities and means Dunn’s leadership role can be partly didactic.
Given the very different functions that instruments play in a big band there is also the issue of how they make space for each other in the ensemble’s music- making. The placement of backings, rhythmically and harmonically also impact on the way in which the bass player can accompany. Coordinating backings can require the rhythms the bass plays to follow a particular pattern, to provide stability rather than flexibility. Even when scored, the part has been left open for the bass player to decide what to play. In one rehearsal, difficulty with the horns coordinating their backings forced Dunn to change tack to allow space for the horn backings. Of this experience Dunn says,
Yeah it’s the first time in the band I’ve ever had to think about it, in this band obviously. Like I’ve played in a big band at uni, but most things are sort of, not most things, but a lot of things are written out or there’s potentially less room for moving out. It’s the first time ever encountered where I’m like ‘oh I’m out here and someone’s counted it in and it sounds really fucked up’ (Dunn 2014a, personal communication)
Despite the arranged nature of big band music the bass player in the big band even when presented with chord changes and the opportunity to create their own line is impacted by the way in which the other instruments function around them.
Preparing for the Bass solo on Hawasa to Addis
Dunn’s approach to improvisation as a soloist with the big band draws on several influences and demonstrates her development of performance practices. Influences such as Ethiopian music and Arabic music in the ensemble’s arrangements, collaboration on other projects and listening experiences have effected the way that Dunn will approach the instrument. Performing arrangements which utilise musical
200 material from other cultures requires the bass player to deal with challenges that are not necessarily part of the vocabulary of jazz bass playing that Dunn studied at the Sydney Conservatorium. According to Dunn:
even just simple things like playing different scales will effect the way I comp, like in Ethiopian music those five note scales that don’t necessarily fit very comfortably on the bass will effect how I end up comping. I’ve started to notice that more and more lately. (Dunn 2014a, personal communication)
Dunn is referring to ‘Hawasa to Addis’ composed by Ruth Wells and featuring a traditional Ethiopian Folk Song sung by the band in unison. It also features a double bass solo by Dunn. In discussion with Dunn about this solo I asked her about the genesis of the approach she takes which includes wide use of glissandos and what seems like a more flexible relationship to fixed pitch centres, which conversely are often minimised in conventional jazz settings in favour of clean shifts that are analogous to woodwind and brass playing in the bop idioms. In the excerpt on the following page Dunn builds her solo of the anhemitonic pentatonic D-F-G-Bb-C often referred to as a Blues Minor pentatonic.
Example 23. ‘Kali and The Time of Change’, Kali and the Time of Change (2012b). Bass improvisation excerpt. 00:02:57 Transcription.
Audio Example 18. Track 18. Wells, Ruth. 2012. ‘Hawassa to Addis’, on Kali and the Time of Change. Sydney: Sirens Big Band.
Dunn was asked whether the use of techniques like glissando was a conscious attempt to work on an aspect of expressivity influenced by broad listening. Her response highlights the reality that despite musicians and academics best attempts to
201 understand the cause and effect relationship between listening, learning and experiences, the synthesis of musical influences in improvisational approaches answers are not always clear cut, with some musicians believing they embody the sounds that they call on when reacting to stimulus both internal and external.
Yeah I don’t know whether that came about through those different scales and having to make bigger leaps or if its also happened from listening to lots of Arabic music and listening to lots of ‘ud players and things like that, I think that that’s probably really effected it too and learning Arabic folk melodies on the bass and stuff. (Dunn 2014a, personal communication)
While Wells direction had been to attempt to imbue the solo with the sounds of Kora players Dunn does not feel that this is necessarily part of her approach to this improvised solo and may have influenced her to think about ‘expanding the colour a little bit’ (Dunn 2014a, personal communication). Dunn remarks also reveal that in discussing improvisational concepts amongst 17 musicians there are various approaches that reflect the duality of jazz trained musicians in a big band performing musically and culturally diverse material. According to Dunn ‘Some people are totally like “let’s talk about how if you’re playing Ethiopian music you have to stay in a scale” and then other people are like “I don’t want to do that”’ (Dunn 2014a, personal communication). As such Sirens can never be truly authentic to one style; instead, the band’s authenticity is derived by a cosmopolitan process of learning and respect for these styles and their practitioners seen in the attempts to achieve competency in the music. This is furthered by establishing key associations with other musicians which validate or approve this hybrid style as authentic. In this context learning is a transformative process which shapes Dunn’s vision for the group and her own performance practices.
7.5 Cultural and individual authenticity in collaboration
Collaboration with Sandy Evans
Dunn’s relationship with saxophonist Sandy Evans has been significant in establishing authority and authenticity for Dunn’s personal approach to improvisation and the ensemble’s approach to music-making. The performance of music alongside musicians of significant reputation has been an important way in
202 which jazz musicians have asserted and been given authenticity by the musical community. This experientially establishes Dunn’s individual authenticity and experientially and symbolically establishes cultural authenticity. Dunn’s work recording (Evans produced the first Sirens album) and performing with Evans who has a esteemed career as a cross-cultural performer, establishes perceptions of Dunn’s musical practice as working with hybridity in ways that are culturally authentic. Evans’ career has involved numerous cross-cultural collaborations with her own group featuring Brett Hirst on Bass, Toby Hall on Drums, Bobby Singh on Tabla and Sarangan Sriranganathan on vocals and sitar, most recently recorded on Kapture (Evans, 2015). The music on Kapture combines jazz with elements of Hindustani and Carnatic traditions from India, the latter of which Evans has studied for some time. Evans has a long term collaboration with Carnatic music Guru Karraikudi R. Mani with whom she has studied and recorded Cosmic Waves (Evans, 2012a). She has also worked in collaboration with percussionist Tony Lewis and Japanese Koto player Satsuki Odamura in the ensemble Waratah, as well as The Australian Art Orchestra’s collaborations with Mani (2009).
Evans also has a number of jazz projects such as When the Sky Cries Rainbows, Clarion Fracture Zone and has been a long standing member of the group Ten Part Invention, alongside players acclaimed and established jazz figures such as John Pochee and those such as Bernie McGann, and Roger Frampton who have passed away. Through these projects Evans has established a profile as a leader and performer in both jazz ensembles and cross-cultural collaborations to critical acclaim including an Order of Australia Medal. This affords Evans an authoritative position amongst the local jazz scene but also as a musician working across musical boundaries. She has also long been involved in mentoring young musicians through SIMA’s Young Women In Jazz Workshops that she founded and educational positions at the Sydney Conservatorium and University of New South Wales. Her esteemed social position inside and outside the jazz community makes her endorsement and collaboration with Dunn and Sirens a significant source of knowledge and a legitimising influence socially.
This is furthered by Evans’ involvement with the ensemble from the start. Evans was critical in urging Dunn and Harding to form Sirens Big Band, has composed for the ensemble ‘Kali and the Time of Change’ and produced their debut
203 album of the same name (Evans, 2012b). On the album’s liner notes, the album is dedicated to Evans as the ensemble’s ‘Jazz Mamma’ ‘For showing the young women of our city that change is in our hands’ (2012). This indicates both the esteem in which the ensemble holds Evans and her influence on the group’s approach to music-making.
The acknowledgement of Evans’ guidance is an important factor in establishing the authenticity of the ensemble’s approach to music-making and Dunn’s approach to improvisation in the local jazz scene, conferring it significant cultural capital. It roots Dunn’s music-making and social practice in already established social movements like gender equality in the music industry that still require advancement, lending the practices a sense of historical authenticity. The relationship aligns to practically address the representation of women in that space made by Evans such as her founding of the Young Women in Jazz Workshops, which Sirens members have helped expand. Evans long track record of making music cross-culturally and as a widely acknowledged leader in the jazz scene helps to cement the musical authenticity of Dunn’s hybrid approach to music. In this sense the association and stylistic performance practices confer a sense of artistic and individual authenticity through their close musical association (Bigenho 2002).
This association can be most overtly seen in the ensemble’s collaboration with Evans during their performance on the 5th of March 2015. This enthusiastic performance featured repertoire Evans wrote for the ensemble, Evans’ repertoire arranged for the ensemble by trumpeter Ellen Kirkwood and repertoire of Evans’ peers including Tony Gorman and Lloyd Swanton. The performance of this material by the band alongside other elements of the Sirens Big Band repertoire help to establish the authenticity of the ensemble’s approach to music-making in the local jazz scene, placing them amongst musicians with a reputation for artistically successful projects with a similar hybrid aesthetic. As such Dunn as the ensemble leader explains the relationship of these pieces, their composers and their connection to the band. Dunn introduced Gorman’s ‘Spice Island’ by explaining that he was Evans’ husband and that Evans would soon be joining them on stage. The arrangement and performance of works by Evans with Evans such as ‘Floating on an Emerald Green Sea’ and the group’s performance of Gorman’s ‘Spice Island’, are an important way of evoking the group’s authenticity through knowledge of the
204 history and developments of composition and performance by local musicians. This practice is not just confined to local musicians and can be seen in the performance of arrangements by musicians from around the world such as Dunn’s arrangement of Malute Atsake’s ‘Ethio Blues’ featuring a bass melody. In doing so Sirens also reflects what past performances and practices are relevant today and what the scene and they see as an authentic representation of quality musical aesthetics. The performance of elements of this collaborative repertoire when not collaborating live, acts to reinforce the association with Evans and reminds audiences of the ensemble’s cultural and historical authenticity.
Perhaps most importantly at this performance was the direct interaction of the ensemble and Evans on stage that establishes the association of the musical practices inter-corporeally. The dialogue of the performance confers on the band a level of intimacy and shared knowledge with Evans that goes beyond the notion of being influenced, giving them authenticity. Improvised interactions establish the professionalism and artistry of the ensemble, particularly its soloists as either at or developing towards the level that Evans has attained. An extended improvised exchange between Evan’s soprano sax and Harding’s sopranino in between korvais in ‘Kali and the Time of Change’ which progressively built in intensity and drama is an prime example of this. The use of predominantly jazz based improvisational language, imbued with rhythmic concepts from Carnatic music coalesced the importance of Evans in the development of Dunn and the ensemble’s approach and Dunn’s developing interest in performing using world musics.
Collaboration with Mohammed Youssef
Dunn is focused on producing music that is well informed with face-to-face encounters across musical cultures. The requirement of in depth understanding is part of what makes Dunn and Sirens Big Band cosmopolitan. In Dunn’s vision, to like a type of music is not sufficient, it must be backed up with in depth musical knowledge and ideally performance should be the result of work with musicians who perform that style of music. Likewise interacting with musicians who play these different styles through learning helps to authenticate the group’s cultural knowledge. Dunn describes her approach in these terms:
205 as much as it’s about a broad listening which I guess is a product of listening to music now. We’ve sort of over time gone that’s cool that you love all that stuff but what does that mean and do you know something about it. So tried to give it, you know not be like, ‘oh that’s really cool lets play that’, it’s like well what do you actually know about that? Do you know how to play that properly or at least close to properly? And are you trying to play it authentically or are you just taking an idea from that and just bringing it into a jazz context. It’s still sort of growing that idea. (Dunn 2014a, personal communication)
Dunn’s motivation is contextualised by the ensemble’s largely Anglo-Saxon make- up, which means there is a need to back up the ensemble’s multicultural aims in the musical practices used and ‘to try and be very respectful’ of the musical cultures from which she takes inspiration (Dunn 2014a, personal communication). In this we can see the combination of Dunn’s cosmopolitan rhetoric with hybrid musical practices and what is seen as cosmopolitan social behaviour. This rhetoric and behaviour lends her approach an important sense of cultural authenticity, it is also not clouded by ideology at the expense of reality and is aware of where the group’s approach could be problematic.
I think that’s been the important thing, it’s like we could say until we’re black and blue in the face, ‘oh we’re trying to draw on Australia’s multicultural nation’ but really were all white for starters, it’s an interesting space to traverse. Like we’re predominantly white people but we really love all this music that some of us have gone overseas and studied or some of us have studied here, I think it interesting to try and be very respectful. (Dunn 2014a, personal communication)
Dunn’s rhetoric in reflecting on her and the ensemble’s musical and social practice emphasises the use of learning in transforming understanding and as such evokes a sense of cultural cosmopolitanism that heightens the degree to which the group’s musical practice is perceived as authentic.
The ensemble’s recent collaboration with ‘ud player Mohammed Youssef comes after a year learning aspects of maqām and Arabic folk music with Youssef. Dunn met Youssef initially through fellow ensemble member and collaborator Philipa Murphy-Haste and the initial musical encounter was intended to be a small ensemble performance as part of the Sydney Conservatorium’s Converge Festival; Youssef was not available but the small group with Ruth Wells, Murphy-Haste, Dunn and percussionist Tarek Squires got together and played informally. Later on, there was a performance to raise money for refugees in Syria and the relationship continued to build, with the small ensemble drawn from Sirens Big Band learning aspects of Youssef’s musical tradition (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). This
206 collaboration is still in its early stages and has required Dunn to learn how to improvise using maqām based methods of tonal organisation which are modal rather than based on harmonic movements, different ornamentation practices and to accompany other instruments in ways which, while present in jazz bass players’ performance practices, are not that typical, such as the use of drone-like bowing and non-harmonic structures.
In this project Dunn attempts to create an approach to the bass influenced by maqām and Arabic folk styles and improvisatory practices. The approach also relies on a combination of creativity and flexibility, by which I mean the ability to critically assess and then modify performance practices in the moment, over the rehearsal period and reflect on this development in the longer term of the musical relationship. This is also mediated by the need to manage a large ensemble where musicians have varying degrees of knowledge and experience with the Arabic styles and performance practices they are in dialogue with. Dunn says:
I guess we were sort of aware from a band perspective that not everyone was… sort of really into or had listened to a lot of Arabic music except for maybe about 6 people and from that perspective we often send around a bunch of music before the rehearsal and do some listening. I’m sure it varies amongst people as to how much they do… Just in an attempt to stamp out the obvious stylistic things they are not going to be into. (Dunn 2014b, personal communication)
However, the collaboration has been part of the shared goals amongst the ensemble’s membership; Dunn says the decision to move in the direction of ‘more cross-cultural collaborations’ was made because ‘we’re all into this music’ (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). As a result the vision for this ensemble approach is also mediated by the compositional and arranging vision of Harrison Harding, Ruth Wells and Youssef in this project.
An example of the negotiation of performance practices occurred with the development of the ensemble’s approach to the tune Lamba Bada, a popular Arabic folk tune which was then performed with Youssef on November 13 2015. Wells and Dunn had played the tune with Youssef before at which time they had ‘harmonised it, at least for the heads in and the heads out.’ (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). Dunn says:
So we sort of wrote some chords for the melody and we brought them over for the arrangement. And then I changed my bass line for the melody so I could play I sort of wrote
207 a line that followed the chords but also followed the contour of the melody and also sometimes picked up parts of the melody. (Dunn 2014b, personal communication)
Dunn developed this bass line over a series of rehearsals I observed, gradually refining it, removing fills until a linear ascending and descending bass line was evident. This line, as Dunn says, followed the contour of the melody as well as the chords, sometimes combining with the ensemble for hit-like unisons using rhythms from the melody. Following the chord changes can be perilous in interfering with the microtonal subtleties, which help to characterise maqām performance. In previous small ensemble performance of the tune with Youssef, Dunn felt that in the improvised solo section of Lamba Bada it was not aesthetically appropriate to maintain the harmony (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). Dunn’s experiences have parallels to Kate Pass’ discussed in Chapter Four playing a different version of ‘Lamba Bada’ with Persian singer Tara Tiba. Pass also refers to the difficulty in applying harmony to the repertoire and the need to adjust it with linear movement (Pass 2013 & Pass 2015, personal communication).
A reflexive process also took place outside rehearsals that contributed to the development of Dunn’s bass line and speaks to the concern with a bass player’s responsibility for maintaining structures as the ensemble embarks on this cross- cultural collaboration with Youssef. Dunn says,
yeah we talked about it a little bit, between the first rehearsal and the second rehearsal you know not implied, maybe simplifying the bass lines a little bit, we definitely talked about that. I think also probably the way Lozz (drummer Lauren Benson) approached it too because there wasn’t really any specific parts other than saying here’s the stuff the tunes… sort of knowing what she was going to play or how much I needed to drive the solo sections especially and how much she is going to drive. Because sometimes if she’s less confident it’s up to me to drive it a little bit more. I don’t know if that had something to do with it or whether it was just more listening and practising, getting more familiar with the tune. (Dunn 2014b, personal communication)
It was also difficult to work out how much space to give the ‘ud during the performance on the 13th of November 2014. So when performing La Hazid Fara by Youssef and arranged by Harding, Dunn improvised with drone-like bowing. This caused Benson to spontaneously drop out as drone-like bowing is an uncommon practice in big band performance and hadn’t been rehearsed causing surprise. The arrangement instead had a pizzicato bass line that was from another arrangement which Dunn eventually turned to. Despite Dunn’s concern about maintaining the temporal form as a result of the spontaneous arrangement of the performance it was
208 ultimately successful in accommodating the ‘ud solo. Despite the disruption to time- keeping in terms of the expectations of the big band the more flexible temporal structure is not at odds with the performance practices of maqām and practices used by other bass players when collaborating with ‘ud players. Examples include Dave Holland accompanying Anouar Brahem (1998) and Renaud Garcia-Fons accompanying Dhafer Youssef (1999) and locally ‘ud virtuoso Joseph Tawardros’ collaboration with a variety of local and international artists including John Patitucci, John Abercrombie, Jack DeJohnette, and Christian McBride (2010 & 2014). Dunn says that ‘traditionally there’s not really a bass’ in Arabic music so it is difficult to be certain whether a practice will be appropriate prior to experimentation and therefore improvisation (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). A criterion for assessing its aesthetic success is also difficult to settle on although Youssef has been clear to demonstrate which rhythmic cycle from taksim takht the piece is based on. Dunn says of this performance,
I actually thought Lauren was going to keep playing the drums, (laughs) … so I sort of thought that it would just sort of be a slight different texture to bring it back a little bit… so the pulse would still be evident but she just sort of stopped as well. It sort of didn’t work out how I thought it was going to work out, and then as soon as she stopped I sort of …it was so unexpected that I lost, I sort of questioned what the tempo was in my mind. (Dunn 2014b, personal communication)
However this does not mean that these practices have not been used in similar contexts or in different ways before. Dunn recalls that, ‘I think maybe we‘d done stuff like that previously when we’ve played in smaller ensembles just even starting songs with a bass drone and then an ‘ud solo over the top and stuff like that.’ (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). As such it can be seen that the relevance of performance practices is constantly being renegotiated and the aesthetic success reassessed. According to Dunn there is a sense in which ‘the same rules don’t apply, like, it is ok to for the time to drop out and not go straight into the groove in that context’ (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). In this way while appropriate performance practices are negotiated in this context a by-product is a less prescriptive set of expectations on what the bass will do or sound like. In this context Dunn’s assessment of the effectiveness of the drone continues:
Yeah I think it worked out ok. I think it worked nicely. I was sort of just wanting to create a bit of a more open texture, a different texture and a bit more openness at the beginning. But then I was like it’s going to be up to me to bring it in … (Dunn 2014b, personal communication)
209 The general sense is that Dunn wishes to utilise a spontaneous, improvisatory approach to ensemble performance but one embedded in a crafted, clear and controlled creative approach to music-making building on practices from established styles (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). The improvised component of the performance practice requires a critical perceptual agency (Monson 2008) rather than free rein. One of the developments in Dunn’s practice has been an awareness that rhythmically and tonally dense accompaniment can act to restrict the soloist. The limited harmonic structure derived from the maqām based melodic organisation of the melody in the arrangement means that the inclusion of a large amount of tonal information in the bass line can potentially limit and distract from the soloist’s melodic development, a point also raised by Pass (Pass 2015, personal communication). As a result open and flexible structures created by drones seem to work well. Dunn says, ‘I sort of don’t want to lock him (Youssef) into a particular structure too much. Like obviously there’s a harmonic structure in the piece but I don’t want to play every note in the scale (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). Such as situation leads to Dunn harmonically restricting the way that she influences the development of solos. However, it is also related to Dunn’s broader goals regarding the construction of bass lines. She says,
I think I’m just always trying to be a bit more coherent with what I’m playing and how I’m going to approach the tune. So not locking everything down but going ‘oh what am I gonna decide on with the bass, with what I’m going to get to’ and I guess maybe that sort of helped. And I guess just being more familiar with the tunes. (Dunn 2014b, personal communication)
In cross-cultural collaborations at times issues occur when musical practices between the styles differ. When learning folk melodies with Youssef, Dunn discovered that the imitation of Youssef’s melody that she had learned from a recording of a lesson, including his ornaments was not appropriate. Though imitation is a common learning practice in jazz and Arabic musics in order to master techniques and approaches to improvisation, this is not an appropriate practice in Youssef’s teaching approach. Instead Youssef asks for certain ornaments to be particular to each individual player and not imitated even when playing in unison the effect of which is heterophony. The reconciling of practices in this context is a practice which McNeil sees as a challenge which must be dealt with over a sustained dialogue and occurs in the sense that ‘there can be no hard and
210 fixed rules to determine what works and what does not work’ (2007, 8). At this stage the relationship between performers is still developing. Dunn describes the developing collaboration as such,
It’d be good to have at least a set of music and see what happens. It also felt like although it came together well, you know it was pretty rushed. There’s also I think like Mohammed, like he’s not quiet but he sort of takes a bit of time before he really says what he thinks. So I think that was sort of starting to happen the second rehearsal and I think there’ll probably be more sort of talking and more sort of backing and forth-ing about what he’s after or about what he thought and stuff like that. So I think I would like to do it again, it seems a shame to play that music once. (Dunn 2014b, personal communication)
At the present time one of the mitigating factors is the limitations of the ensemble’s knowledge of Youssef’s performance tradition. This development of understanding is necessary in establishing effective musical-social relationships that allow both parties to interact over what alternatives and solutions are available to musical problems. However the development of knowledge about maqām and the establishment of working relationships are processes that take time. Dunn explains that,
the more you get to know somebody and the more you’ve worked obviously that stuffs going to open up and there’ll be more dialogue. Like Harri and Mohammed had met before but they’d never played together. You’d go down, if it was maybe a little bit further down the track he might have felt able to say you could change this or change that. I don’t know. (Dunn 2014b, personal communication)
Dunn’s perspective demonstrates how even as an ensemble leader the bass accompanying role continues to influence performance practices. This was evident in that following the initial rehearsal Youssef and Harding collaborated to orchestrate an arrangement of Arabic folk tune La Hazid Fara which was then rehearsed at the second rehearsal and included in the performance. The success of Youssef’s tune was partly due to the arrangement’s relative simplicity using the head-solo-head form all the musicians involved are familiar with. The inclusion of this tune in the performance was partly influenced by common understanding of this jazz form and the previous performance and rehearsal exposure of a smaller group of the ensemble which had previously played it with Youssef (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). Establishing such common ground is a factor that McNeil suggests enables success in the performance of cross-cultural collaborations (2007).
211 Influence of Arabic music on Dunn’s approach to bass playing/improvising
Dunn’s interest in Arabic music has impacted on how she improvises beyond her work with Sirens Big Band. The methods of melodic organisation have influenced her approach but it is an ongoing process of absorption in an effort to understand how the components of different maqām work.
Yeah definitely feel like some of them are coming out. Yeah I think so from listening to various ‘ud players play and things like that are coming in like learning you know various rhythmic things or yeah even from just learning melodies. Like there are certain tendencies in Arabic melodies and how that effects how I play and things like that. I sort of haven’t got to the point of really understanding his approach (Youssef’s), of how they improvise from scale to scale and different jumping of points and stuff like that, I would like to get into that. (Dunn 2014b, personal communication)
Dunn says that while initially when learning to play in an Arabic music context she had been concerned with playing ‘the wrong thing’, Youssef’s desire not to approach the material how ‘everyone else’ does opened up space for ‘dialogue’ and experimentation and decreased concerns about adhering to traditional Arabic music aesthetics (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). Youssef’s approach bore striking similarities to how jazz standards are treated as a basis for developing an individual approach to the musical canon and suggests a cross-culturally aware perspective. Playing the bass, an instrument which has had a limited role in traditional Arabic music and does not have a large body of performance practices associated with it, also ‘takes a bit of pressure off’ according to Dunn, and further opens up the space for creativity (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). While Dunn’s utilisation of different aspects of this learning experience is not a focus of the collaboration between the big band and Youssef, her assimilation of certain concepts into her improvisational approach can be heard in a performance recorded of the smaller group who began learning from Youssef. In her free time solo introduction to the piece ‘Zaruni’, part of which is transcribed over the page, Dunn utilises self-accompaniment implying a D Phrygian sound to begin the solo. The opening fragment in particular is evocative of the performance practices of ‘ud players in its aesthetic. She then implies a harmonic sequence of C minor, D minor, C minor, Bb major, leading towards the fifth degree of the mode which is A. The
212 use of the double stops reflects both the tradition of unaccompanied solos on the double bass in jazz but also the practices of the ‘ud.
Example 24. ‘Zaruni – Ashams’, Soundcloud (2015). Bass improvisation excerpt 1. 00:00:00 Transcription.
Audio Example 19. Online. Dunn, J. 2015. ‘Zaruni – Ashams’, Soundcloud, [accessed 23 March 2016]. Available at: https://soundcloud.com/jaidee- 1/zaruni-ashams
One of the most significant aspects of this improvisation is the use of microtonal inflection within a very open rubato created through a slow ascending glissando from F to Bb then down to G, followed by a second glissando from F up to Bb and then down to D transcribed below.
Example 25. ‘Zaruni – Ashams’, Soundcloud (2015). Bass improvisation excerpt 2. 00:00:23 Transcription.
Audio Example 19. Ibid.
Such a performance practice is demonstrative of the Arabic influence on Dunn’s performance practice from her experience learning with Youssef and demonstrates similarities to the aesthetics of Youssef’s solo that follows. In terms of aesthetics on the double bass it is a combination of performance practices not often
213 heard in jazz. Such a practice demonstrates how Dunn’s development of performance practices to use in improvising helps her to establish a sense of authenticity in performing in Arabic styles and Arabic compositions.
7.6 In the moment of performance: Authentication from the musical to the social
During a performance on the 13th of November 2014 the role of authenticity in establishing Dunn’s cosmopolitanism gained greater importance to understanding her practice. As Dunn was introducing ‘Yaria Sobeblanding’ a piece arranged by Harding that the group performed with Youssef, some members of the audience in the front tables at Camelot Lounge reacted excitedly to the announcement Youssef would be joining the big band to perform soon, and Dunn engaged the most vocal in conversation which was only partially audible to the rest of the audience. Later in the set once Youssef had joined and played a few tunes with the Big Band, ‘Lamba Bada’ an Arabic folk song arranged by Ruth Wells was performed; these audience members sang along to the piece which is a popular / well known folk song in both Arabic and Persian speaking communities. This prompted further interaction with Dunn after the piece and the announcement that the group were members of, or associated with the Andaluzian Arabic choir in Sydney. This convivial interaction between audience and performer socially reinforced the authenticity of ensemble through the shared experience of the ensemble’s collaboration with Youssef and the success of their creativity in combining jazz and Arabic performance practices. Dunn later recalled that a group of women from the choir came up afterwards and congratulated them on the performance (Dunn 2014b, personal communication).
Such external cultural validation of the group’s hybrid practice and cross- cultural work is a significant way in which the authentic cosmopolitan nature of the work can be seen. The presence of this audience demographic at the concert points to the ability of cross-cultural collaborations to draw in communities with different musical and social practices to the same musical performances. While singing along with a performance at a jazz gig in Sydney would not be seen as socially acceptable or as a way of conferring credibility, in this context where Dunn and Sirens Big Band are trying to establish their legitimacy to work creatively with Arabic musical practices, styles and repertoire it served to publicly endorse and give authority to
214 their approach, musically and socially. External validation in a public performance like this plays a significant role in increasing the cultural capital of the project and its cross-cultural aims in the local music scene. The collective performance between the band, Youssef and the choir members present in the audience demonstrated cultural authenticity powerfully because a packed audience observed it. The importance of this validation of the performance is also contextualised by the knowledge that Dunn was aware that members of the Arabic community who wished to see Youssef as his performances are limited would have a degree of expertise in assessing how well the band approached the Arabic repertoire (Dunn 2014b, personal communication). The performance with Youssef can be seen as validating the use of hybridity as an authentic individual and cultural practice by virtue of the experience.
In light of this event we can see that the music’s authenticity is further established when it goes beyond the perceptions of the listener and producer that Weiss (2014) discusses into the realm of human interactions. Dunn’s collaboration with Youssef shows that the location of musical-cultural knowledge from a diversity of places is located within Sydney’s inhabitants even though they may be culturally connected to other geographies historically. This demonstrates Aaron van Klyton’s argument that as more and more world music performers became resident in the UK and EU, and I would include in that other Western nations like Australia, hybrid world music was now ‘occurring at the site of consumption rather than in far-off distant places’ (2014, 107). However, the hybridity of this example should not obscure that the connections to the styles the musicians are grounded in authenticates their ability to improvise.
In this chapter I have shown that Dunn’s practice materialises a cosmopolitan identity through the musical hybridity used, the social interactions with other musicians and broader social activities that Dunn takes part in. Her cosmopolitanism is also reflected in the rhetoric, and attitudes surrounding her main project, the Sirens Big Band. Dunn’s social activities in supporting and setting an example for female jazz musicians shows that there are still barriers to the participation of female performers in jazz. Dunn has used her position as an ensemble leader to create a context of performance for herself, Sirens, and emerging female musicians, which is part of the broader jazz scene in Sydney but is
215 differentiated and artistically innovative because of its emphasis on cultural encounter and social equality. This politics is further represented in Dunn and fellow Sirens members’ work with female refugees and migrants, offering opportunities to learn and perform music in a welcoming environment as part of a ‘Multicultural Communities’ project entitled ‘Women in Harmony’ (New South Wales Settlement Program 2016). The work the group undertakes demonstrates the ‘problematization and pluralization’ (Delanty 2006, 40-41) that is part of the way cosmopolitans reshape the social landscape and in this case Dunn and the Sirens use it to further the voice and participation of women in Australia and the jazz scene. This is a way in which the socially formative aspects of the hybrid musical imagination and practice of Dunn can be used as a way to ‘prefigure’ (Born 2000, 35-36) a more equal and cosmopolitan possibility for society. These factors that exist beyond musical performance frame or mediate the meaning of Dunn’s music through deliberate action and social citizenship, which are some of the most important ways Dunn’s practices and authenticity position her as cosmopolitan (Delanty 2006 & 2011). The aesthetic that Dunn creates as a jazz trained musician making music in the hybrid, ‘in-between space’ (Bhabha 1994) resonates with her progressive social politics that asserts and affirms the voice of women, across borders particularly in situations of marginalisation which effect refugees and migrants. Here the cosmopolitan learning process and activism are connected in the creation of music through the transformation of people with the aid of Sirens’ musical-cultural knowledge and capacity to bring diverse people together.
The authenticating processes of collaboration, re-versioning of material and the interactions with other cultural intermediaries during performance with Evans and Youssef has an important role in establishing the musical and cosmopolitan legitimacy of Dunn’s work. These processes incorporate all three of Bigenho’s (2002) types of authenticity: historical-cultural, experiential and individual, in keeping with the capacity of authenticity to be deployed for both musical and socio- political purposes that Weiss highlighted (2014). The experiential authenticity and cultural validation of the group’s cultural knowledge and hybrid musical abilities is made possible by performing alongside musicians already deemed to have cultural authenticity. The demonstration of knowledge and cosmopolitan cultural competency achieved by a transformative learning process is demonstrated by
216 Dunn’s individual musical expression in performance. This is of course reflective of the ‘paradoxes of finding one’s individual identity within such [communities]’ of musical practice (Gebhardt 2015, 6), to be truly experienced as authentic the performance must express individual musical identity in relation to established musical traditions. This materialises a musical identity that is cosmopolitan in its embrace of difference in which Dunn’s bass playing is a reflection of broader cosmopolitan practices and attitude. Improvising, accompanying and leading the ensemble therefore helps to symbolise and reinforce the cosmopolitan vision that is circulating in her social practices and the confluence of these gives the music a distinct social message of equality and diversity. The most outward sign of this is the incorporation of practices and repertoire from Arabic music not usually associated with the double bass in jazz, which provides a different way to approach the instrument in such hybrid contexts. Dunn presents a vision of local jazz musicians’ identity that is culturally plural, that centralises hybridity to musical and cultural practice and seeks to address inequality and imbalance across the social and musical domains.
217 Conclusion
Cultural cosmopolitanism is shown to be a central component of the way we can understand the social and musical practices of contemporary jazz double bass players studied in this thesis. As discussed in Chapter One more recent theorisation of social structure in philosophy, cultural studies, sociology and anthropology in terms of cosmopolitanism attempts to deal with the way in which people increasingly belong and identify with cultural groups across borders and has the capacity to expand our understanding of how musicians’ practices go beyond hybridity alone (Beck & Snaizder 2006 & 2012 & Delanty 2006). Hybridisation is a process which both influences the development of contemporary cultural practices and is key to understanding them through contemporary music scholarship. However, the way individuals approach hybridisation offers important evidence for understanding the meanings and identities that result. Examining these hybrid experiences in relation to cosmopolitanism gives depth to how we understand the relationship of cultural practices and identities to broader established social structures such as the nation which has occupied the focus of much work in ethnomusicology (Slobin 1993, Bohlman 2002, Feld 2012). My focus has primarily been on the musical and social practices of individuals, drawing attention to the way bass players have interacted with cultural hybridity and given their practice a depth characteristic of cosmopolitanism by embracing difference evidenced through learning and the transformation of their own practices. My definition of cosmopolitanism as outlined in Chapter One has been developed by combining the work of noted scholars interested in the individual’s relationship to broader society, in particular Delanty (2006), Appiah (2006), Hannerz (1990), Regev (2013), and offers a way of implementing cosmopolitan theorisation in the study of specific instances of musical practice that go beyond hybridity. I thus differentiate it from cultural hybridity, globalisation and modernity that often contextualise it and put the focus on specific behaviours and practices. To be cosmopolitan is therefore not just a rhetorical state for observing hybrid cultural development, although there is an important attitudinal component, but also a way of behaving which has ramifications for the creation of music. This cultural cosmopolitanism is an effective framework to understand how double bass players have dealt with hybridity through learning and creative experimentation.
218 Such hybrid musical practice and cosmopolitan behaviour has ramifications for how we understand jazz, and improvised music in Australia. As I discussed in Chapter One the study of jazz in Australia has overwhelmingly been characterised by perspectives which explore the the cultural history of the music in relation to concepts of the Australian nation, for example Johnson (2000) and Whiteoak (1998). However, the musical aesthetics and practices present in work of bass players studied in this thesis suggests that this is not the priority. The tension here is important for how we understand jazz and hybrid music-making locally, as it speaks to the enduring significance of ‘American Ideology’ and ‘the question of how jazz was made and who made it’ to making meaning out of jazz performance (Gebhardt 2001, 38), and of the desire of local musician to give their work local significance. Focus on a cosmopolitan identity that does not preclude nation structures and identification with them, allows greater capacity for positioning hybrid musical practice sympathetically alongside social identity, and may serve as a way to understand the tensions that exist between local jazz practice and discourse.
While Australianness is often evoked as a differentiating tactic in the rhetoric of musicians, when discussing practice this category is in limited use and is at times of concern. As I argued in reference to Rose’s thesis (2016), attempts to connect national identity with the musical aesthetics and practices of local jazz musicians are problematic, and there are inherent tensions in identifying diasporic and affinity based connections of musical cultural practice (Slobin 1993) with a national identity. While some attempts have been made by this thesis, Rose (2016) and Evans (2014b) to understand the ambiguities and tensions in the meanings of such jazz hybrid musical practice locally, there is a need for further research through larger scale musicological and sociological study that explores the relationship between musical practice and the way jazz musicians identify in the local context. The tensions that exist in creating identities in relation to the local and the nation, and to global practice and discourse of jazz and other musical cultures has emerged as an intersection to which this research makes a contribution.
In Chapter Two I explored ethnomusicological and anthropological literature to theorise what I have called a position of relative sameness from which this research has been conducted. Building on the work of Pian (1992) and Cheiner (2002) who developed concepts of the native ethnomusicologist I have sought to
219 deal with the position of researchers such as myself who hold similar positions to those they research before conducting field work but are not entirely of the same ethnic, cultural and gender background. I have demonstrated the way in which researchers such as Baily (2008) and Rice (1997) have used performance expertise to mediate between inside and outside perspectives on the music and the utility of this approach. I have also pointed to the ongoing importance of dialogue as outlined by Tedlock (1986) and Feld (1987) in conducting fieldwork from a position of relative sameness. Theorising my position as both a researcher and double bass player has been important to explain the connection between myself and participants and the important basis of prior musical experiences, shared musical histories and cultural knowledge that informed and stimulated the process of research and analysis.
Throughout the thesis I have demonstrated that the process of cultural hybridity is a significant force in the way that contemporary double bass players from a jazz background make music. In doing so the thesis in Chapter Four builds on the important work done by Berliner and Monson surveyed in Chapter Three that identified and codified core practices that form a tradition often associated with the bass accompanying role in jazz in historical narratives and broader perception (Berliner 1994, 319-324 & Monson 1996, 29-32). I have demonstrated in Chapters Three and Four that these orthodox practices remain part of contemporary players’ approaches, but that their perspective on the traditional bass role embraces hybridity. For accompanying bass players this requires the incorporation of styles such as bossa nova and Afro-cuban son that have long been a part of jazz, as argued by Roberts (1985) and Washburne (1997 & 2001/2002), but peripheral to mainstream narratives. In many cases this relates to Latin rhythms being a common requirement of performances that confirms Washburne’s characterisation of jazz as inherently linked to Latin musics (1997 & 2001/2002).
The musical and social practices of jazz bass players discussed in Chapter Four have a propensity to be open to different ways of making music. This is an aspect of the social practices of jazz bass players that is critical to their experience but has not previously been connected to the codes which govern their performance practices. Contemporary bass players who work primarily as sidemen/women performing the accompanying role are subject to musical and social forces related to
220 style and ensemble hierarchy that determine how they play. Of course these forces are mediated by the traditions players learn and the influence of significant bass players from jazz’s history. This creates sizeable variation in the practices used and determining the level of appropriateness of performance practices is an important skill bass players develop: they are required to be flexible about what they are willing to do in order to work.
However, as demonstrated in Chapter Four (4.4), contemporary cross- cultural collaboration has created a hybrid space in which bass players must adapt, innovate and negotiate with the role of the instrument and improvisation practices. The practices of Pass and Rex correlate with the perspectives of intercultural musical practice involving improvisation as a negotiation of the musical space through similarities and dialogue put forward by Wren (2014) and McNeil (2007). Examination of these practices provided significant insight into how cross-cultural collaborations and musical hybridity effect the role of accompanying that the bass player performs. In these interactions Pass and Rex draw on the practices of their own training, of other bass players and of those they are collaborating with. The result is additions to the performance practices of musicians, such as Pass’s development of a linear approach to the bass and voice leading whilst collaborating with Persian musicians, or Rex’s development of an improvisational vocabulary to interact with the South Indian ghatam in ‘Sacred Cow Tails’ (2008), leading to different sounds and ways of performing the bass role. Yet the structures of ensemble hierarchies are still at play, as evidenced by Rex’s comments, that Mani structured even such events as improvised musical interactions to a certain extent. This perspective is confirmed as a common practice in Wren’s work on intercultural improvisation in the project Ultimate Cows (2014). Such ensemble structures in cross-cultural collaborations can serve a validating function on hybrid music- making, giving an endorsement of the approaches of the musicians, signalling these approaches as socially valid when the codes or criteria for such cultural authenticity are ambiguous. Performing aspects of the conventional bass role in collaboration is then a way in which the experience of authenticity is communicated in the public domain. While this dynamic does not necessarily reflect the ideas of freedom associated with improvisation in the West (as seen in Heble, Fischlin and Lipsitz 2013) it should be seen as a positive musical practice in social terms because of its
221 potential for use in negotiating the conventions of cross-cultural performances. I argue that this reflects a cosmopolitan desire to learn about different approaches to music through face-to-face interaction and to understand these practices and their function in the culture they come from. In the final part of Chapter Four (4.5) I demonstrated how even when bass players step into a leadership role they generally maintain a close relationship to the accompanying role, to maintain their role in the jazz scene and employability as an accompanist.
In Chapter Five the demonstration of developments in performance practice on the double bass, by performers who lead their own ensembles using overtly hybrid musical influences, offers important evidence for analysing innovations in both improvisation and composition. The bass player may become a feature playing melodies and solos and directing the elements of the performance. Initially I presented a discussion of the historical, scholarly and popular discourse on double bass players who have been leaders and pointed out the gap in literature that exists as a result of their minimal representation. I briefly addressed this gap by surveying influential bass players who have led ensembles as their core creative project to contextualise the fieldwork based case studies in Chapter Six and Seven. Again I drew attention to the important role of hybridity in shaping and diversifying the practices and sound of the bass in both jazz through the analysis of Mingus’ ‘Ysabel’s Table Dance’, and world music through the study of Renaud Garcia- Fon’s innovative performance practice ‘Cristobal’. In the second part of the thesis I continued to develop this relatively under-documented area of research exploring the use of sounds not traditionally associated with the bass.
From the mostly historical perspective in Chapter Six and Seven I moved towards an exploration of how cultural hybridity affects the performance practices of bass players leading their own ensembles. Drawing on fieldwork and musical analysis I explored the work of two such performers, Lloyd Swanton and Jessica Dunn, looking at the ways they have reimagined the double bass and the social meanings that have developed from their practice. In Chapter Six I demonstrated how Swanton has developed an innovative approach to the double bass in improvisation using tremolo bowing and strumming, as well as the specific process- focused approach to improvisation he has contributed to in The Necks. In doing so I developed understanding of Swanton’s approach to music-making in particular
222 improvisation, building on scholarly literature that has structurally analysed The Necks’ work to inspire creative practice (Galbraith 2014). I also explored how he has reimagined the bass role as a more melodic one in The catholics, working in aesthetics that are hybrid (Regev 2013) and ‘in-between’ (Bhabha 1994, 2) which provide space and inspiration for the transformation of the bass role. I argued that his hybrid performance practice embraces difference in performance which is the most overt evidence of Swanton’s cosmopolitanism and is in keeping with Appiah’s development of the concept (2006, xv). However, it is also a reflection of a more deeply held cosmopolitan approach to musical-cultural practice that utilises learning, a central notion of Delanty’s theorisation of cosmopolitanism (2006, 40- 41).
The connections that the Necks and The catholics maintain to jazz practices and the way in which they simultaneously challenge these styles, along with the setting in the Australian jazz scene align Swanton’s musical practice with the identity we might associate with a cosmopolitan at ‘home’ as described by Hannerz (1990, 247-248). Swanton’s attempts to master relevant culture practices demonstrate the trait of cosmopolitans who desire to ‘immerse themselves in other cultures’ and approach this openness in terms of a vocation (1990, 241-246).
In Chapter Seven, utilising the framework developed by Bigenho to analyse authenticity in terms of historical-cultural, experiential and individual perspectives, I built on my exploration of the development of approaches to the double bass influenced by hybridity and using practices that can be identified as cosmopolitan (2002, 20). I demonstrated the ways in which Dunn and the Sirens Big Band construct a sense of authenticity through the use of cosmopolitan practices musically and socially. The use of rehearsal and performance collaboration with performers like Mohammed Youssef and Sandy Evans along with repertoire selection has contributed a social position that authenticates the group’s hybrid approach to music-making. The cosmopolitan way in which this is done, the embrace of difference through learning is a core component in developing an authentic musical approach in an uncertain and often contingent cultural space. Dunn’s development of an approach to improvisation that explores micro-tonal inflection and bass lines that are designed to support modal rather than harmonic structures are situated in a context in which the hybrid use of practices and
223 aesthetics is given social authority by senior musicians. I identified Dunn’s cosmopolitanism not just in terms of musical practice but also in her extra-musical aims and involvement in outreach work, giving a voice to marginalised immigrant groups. This socially active practice is also at the core of the group’s support to increasing the number of female jazz musicians in Sydney. Such a cosmopolitan practice I argue is a positive way of developing approaches to cultural hybridity in musical performance.
Identities in this locality may be better distinguished by the way they often reflect multiple cultural sources rather than the country of performance and the socio-cultural practices each musician uses. The identification of these cosmopolitan features, as defined by Delanty and Hannerz, in Swanton and Dunn’s work, confirms that there is validity in distinguishing between cultural hybridity as a process discussed by Stross (1999) and cosmopolitan behaviour which may help us better understand the complex identity formation of Australian jazz trained musicians. In this way cosmopolitanism can help distinguish the meanings of improvisation in local jazz-hybrid music-making from its use in studies of music- making in the U.S which put forward improvisation as a discursive concept synonymous with freedom and social resistance, such as those of Stanyek (2004) and Heble, Fischlin and Lipsitz (2013). Instead we can see such music-making locally as broadly reflecting openness to difference. Such improvisation is not in and of itself synonymous with ideas of freedom and social resistance but in specific circumstances can be used by musicians for specific social goals, such as in Dunn’s work with refugees, migrants and in enhancing women’s participation in jazz.
Unsurprisingly this argument hinges on how we define improvisation in our analysis of the connection between musical and social practice. Throughout I have discussed it drawing on definitions by Nettl (1974, 12), Nooshin (2003, 43) and Berliner (1994), in terms of a musical practice that musicians use in performance that is not altogether different from composition but occurs in real time and is characterised by spontaneity and interaction, but also draws on preparation and learning. As such improvisation as a musical practice has a capacity to be used as part of cosmopolitan behaviour that similarly values learning to advance cultural knowledge and practice in positive ways.
224
225 Reference List
Ake, David. 2002. Jazz Cultures. Berkley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press.
Anderson, Leon. 2006. ‘Analytic Autoethnography’, Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 35(4): 373-395. Appadurai, Arjun. 1996. Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Appadurai, Arjun. 2002. ‘Spectral Housing and Urban Cleansing: Notes on Millenial Mumbai’, in Cosmopolitanisn ed. Carol A. Breckenridge, Sheldon Pollock, Homi K. Bhabha and Dipesh Chakrabarty. Durham and London: Duke Univeristy Press, 54-81.
Appiah, Kwame Anthony. 1997. ‘Cosmopolitan Patriots’, Critical Inquiry 23: 617- 639.
---2006. Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers. New York and London: W.W. Norton and Company.
Ashcroft, Bill. 2011. ‘Australian Transnation’, Southerly 71(1): 18-40.
Ashcroft, Bill & Griffiths. Gareth & Tiffin, Helen. 2002. The Empire Writes Back: Theory and Practice in Post-colonial Literatures. London and New York: Routledge.
Australian Art Orchestra. n.d. ‘Australian Art Orchestra’, [accessed May 26 2016]. Available at http://www.aao.com.au Bailey, Derek. 1992. improvisation: It's Nature and Practice in Music. Ashborune: Da Capo Press. Baily, John. 2008. ‘Ethnomusicology, Intermusability, and Performance Practice’, in The New (Ethno)musicologies, ed. Henry Stobart. Maryland, Toronto, Plymouth: The Scarecrow Press, 117-134.
Bakhtin, Mikhail. 1981. The Dialogic Imagination. Austin: University of Texas Press.
Bakkum, Nathan. 2009. ‘Don’t Push, Don’t Pull: Jazz Rhythm Section Interaction and Musical Change’, Ph.D. diss., University of Chicago.
Barg, Lisa, Kernodle, Tammy, Spencer, Dianthe, and Tucker, Sherrie. 2014 ‘Introduction’, Black Music Research Journal 34(1):1-8.
Barker, Hugh & Taylor, Yuval. 2007. Faking it: The Quest for Authenticity in Popular Music. New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company.
226 Bartleet, Bridie-lee. 2009. Music autoethnographies : making autoethnography sing : making music personal. Bowen Hills, Queensland: Australian Academic Press.
Bass Player Magazine. 2006. ‘The King of Latin bass, Cachao elevated Cuban music with his percussive thump and expressive bowing’, Bass Player Magazine, Nov. Beck, Ulricht. 2011. ‘Cosmopolitanism as Imagined Communities of Global Risk’, American Behavioural Scientist 55(10):1346-1361.
--- 2012. ‘Redefining the Sociological Project: The Cosmopolitan Challenge’, Sociology 46(1): 7-12.
Beck, Ulricht. and Snaizder, N. 2006. ‘Unpacking Cosmopolitanism for the Social Sciences: A Research Agenda’, The British Journal of Sociology 57(1): 381- 403.
Berliner, Paul. 1994. Thinking in jazz. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Bhabha, Homi. 1994. The Location of Culture. New York and London: Routledge.
Bigenho, Michelle. 2002. Sounding Indigenous. New York: Palgrave
Binder, Benjamin. 2014. ‘The Lied form the Inside Out’, In ‘Studying the Lied: Hermeneutic Traditions and the Challenge of Performance’, edited by Jennifer Ronyak. Journal of the American Musicological Society. 67 (2): 549-555. Blacking, John. 1995. ‘Expressing Human Experience Through Music’, in Music, culture, & experience, ed.Reginald Byron and Bruno Nettl. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 31-53
Bloechl, Olivia & Lowe, M Melanie. 2015. ‘Introduction: Rethinking Difference.’ In Rethinking Difference in Music Scholarhip, ed. Olivia Bloechl, Melanie Lowe, & Jeffrey Kallberg. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1-52.
Bohlman, Philip. 2002. World Music: A very short introduction. Oxford University Press: Oxford.
Borgo, David. 2002. ‘Negotitating Freedom: Values and Practices in Contemporary Improvised Music’, Black Music Research Journal, 22(2): 165-168.
Born, Georgina. ‘Music and the Representation/ Articulation of Socio-cultural Identities’, in Western Music and Its Others, ed. Georgina Born and David Hesmondhalgh. Berkley, Los Angeles & London: University of California Press 2000, 31-37.
--- 2011. “Music and the materialisation of identities.” Journal of Material Culture, 16(4): 376-388.
227 --- 2017. ‘After Relational Aesthetics: Improvised music, the social, and (Re)Theorising the Aesthetic’, In Improvisation and Social Aesthetics, ed. Georgina Born, Eric Lewis E. & William Straw,. Durham and London: Duke University Press, 33-38.
Breckenridge, Carol., Pollock, Sheldon., Bhabha, Homi K. and Dipesh Chakrabarty. 2002. ‘Cosmopolitanisms’ in Cosmopolitanisn ed. Carol A. Breckenridge, Sheldon Pollock, Homi K. Bhabha and Dipesh Chakrabarty. Durham and London: Duke Univeristy Press, 1-14.
Broos, Diane. 1998. ‘Falling Through the 'Savage Slot' Postcolonial Critique and the Ethnographic Task’, The Australian Journal of Anthropology, 9(3): 295- 309. Butterfield, Craig. 2008. ‘The Improvisational Language of Niels-Henning Orsted Pedersen: A Performance Study’, DMA diss., University of North Texas. Butterfield, Matthew. 2007. ‘Review: Robert Hodson, Interaction, Improvisation, and Interpay in Jazz’, Jazz Research Journal 1(2): 239-249. Caduff, Reto. 2010. Rambling Boy. Zurich: Pixiu Films. Camal, Jerome. 2012. ‘Creolizing Jazz, Jazzing the Tout-monde: Jazz, Gwoka and the Poetics of Relation’, Francophone Postcolonial Studies - American Creoles: The Francophone Carribean and the American South New Series 3: 165-179. Carter, Ron. 1998. Ron Carter: Building Jazz Bass lines: A compendium of techniques for great bass lines. Milwaukee: Hal Leonard. Caton, Magaret. 2002. ‘Performance practice in Iran: Radif and Improvisation’, in The Garland Encyclopedia of World Music Vol. 6, ed. Scott Marcus, Virginia Danielson, and Dwight Reynolds. New York and London: Routledge. Cavin, Susan. 1975. ‘Missing Women: on the Voodoo Trail to Jazz’, Journal of Jazz Studies 3(1): 4-27.
Chadbourne, Eugene. 2013. “Artist Biography: Roger Guerin’, [accessed 4th of September]. Available at: http://www.allmusic.com/artist/roger-guerin- mn0000834362 Cheiner, Chou. 2002. ‘Experience and Feldwork: A Native Researcher's View’, Ethnomusicology, 46(3): 456-486.
Chevan, David. 1989. ‘The Double Bass as a Solo Instrument in Early Jazz’, The Black Perspective in Music, 17(1/2):
Clifford, James. 1988. ‘On Ethnographic Authority’, in Predicament of Culture, ed. James Clifford. Cambridge, Massachusetts & London: Harvard University Press, 21-54.
228 Coady, Christopher. 2011. ‘AfroModernist Compositional Strategies in Selected Works by John Lewis: 1952-1962’, PhD diss., The University of New South Wales, Sydney.
Curkpatrick, Samuel. 2013. ‘Productive Ambiguity: Fleshing out the bones in Yolngu Manikay “Song” Performance, and the Australian Art Orchestra’s “Crossing Roper Bar”, Critical Studies in Improvisation 9 (2): 1-15
Curtis, Bruce. 2016. ‘The Performance-based Research Fund, gender and a cultural cringe’, Globalisation, Societies and Education 14 (1): 87-109.
Davis, Francis. 2005. ‘Charlie Haden Liberation Music Orchestra’, The Village Voice, Aug 10-Aug 16, 2005, 50(32): C84.
Debriano, Santi. 2015. The Modern Bass Player’s Toolbox: Mastery of the Upright Bass Jazz Method Book 1. Staten Island: Santi Debriano.
Delanty, Gerard. 2006. ‘The cosmopolitan imagination: critical cosmopolitanism and social theory’, British Journal of Sociology 57(1): 25-47.
--- 2011. Cultural diversity, democracy and the prospects of cosmopolitanism: a theory of cultural encounters’, The British Journal of Sociology 62(4): 633- 656.
Denson, Louise. 2014. Perspectives on the Melbourne International Women’s Jazz Festival. Jazz Research Journal, 8(1-2): 163-181.
Denzin, Norman. 2006. ‘Analytical Autoethnography, or Déjà vu all Over Again’, The Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 35(4): 419-428.
Dessen, Mark. 2004. ‘Improvising in a Different Clave: Steve Coleman and AfroCuba de Matanzas’, in The Other Side of Nowhere: Jazz, Improvisation and Communities in Dialogue, ed. Daniel Fishclin and Ajay Heble. Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 173-194.
Deveaux, Scott. 1991. ‘Constructing the Jazz Tradition’, Black Literature Forum 25(3): 525-560.
Diouf, M. 2002. ‘The Senegalise murid Diaspora and the Making of a Vernacular Cosmopolitansim’, in Cosmopolitanisn ed. Carol A. Breckenridge, Sheldon Pollock, Homi K. Bhabha and Dipesh Chakrabarty. Durham and London: Duke Univeristy Press, 111-137.
Dunkel, Mario. 2011. ‘Charles Mingus and Performative Composing’, Word and Music Studies, v12: 229-242. Ellis, Carolyn and Arthur P. Bochner. 2006. ‘Analysing Analytic Autoethnography: An Autopsy’, The Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 35(4): 429-449.
Enja. 2014. ‘Enja Records’,[accessed Febuary 5, 2014]. Available at: http://www.jazzrecords.com/enja/index.htm
229 Erlmann, Veit. 1996. ‘The Aesthetics of the Global Imagination: Reflections on World Music in the 1990s’, Public Culture 8: 467-487. --- 1998. ‘How Beautiful Is Small? Music, Globalization and the Aesthetics of the Local’, Yearbook for Traditional Music 30: 12-21.
--- 2002. Africa Civilized, Africa Uncivilized. Safundi, 3(1):1-15.
Evans, Sandra. 2014. ‘Meeting at the Table of Time: A Creative Practice Inquiry into Carnatic Jazz Intercultural Music’, PhD diss,. Macquarie University.
---- 2014b. ‘Expressive identity in the voices of three Australian saxophonists: McGann, Sanders and Gorman’, Jazz Research Journal 8(1-2): 257-276.
Evans, Kathy. 2012. ‘Double or Nothing’, The Sydney Morning Herald, April 28 [accessed 20 November 2013] Available at: http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/music/double-or-nothing-20120427- 1xpmz.html.
Feld, Steven. 1987. ‘Dialogic Editing: Interpreting How Kaluli Read Sound and Sentiment’, Cultural Anthropology 2(2): 190-210.
--- 1994. ‘ Schizophonia to Schizmogensis: On the Discourse and Commodification of “World Music” and “World Beat”’, in Music Grooves: Essays and Dialogues, ed. Charles Keil and Steven Feld. Chicago: Chicgao University Press, 257-290.
--- 1996. ‘Pygmy POP. A Genealogy of Schizophonic Mimesis. Yearbook for Traditional Music’, 28: 1-35.
--- 2000. ‘A Sweet Lullaby for World Music’, Public Culture 12(1): 145-171.
--- 2012. Jazz Cosmopolitansim in Accra. Durham and London: Duke University Press. Fernandez, Raul. 2006. From Afro-Cuban Rhythms to Latin Jazz. Berklee, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press.
Fischlin, Daniel., Heble, Ajay, & Lipsitz, George. 2013. The Fierce Urgency of Now: Improvisation, Rights, and the Ethics of Cocreation. Durham and London: Duke University Press. Frith, Simon. 1991. World music, politics, and social change. Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press.
Galbraith, Jane. 2014. ‘Sex and the sonic smorgasbord: The Necks-extending the 'jazz' piano trio format’, Jazz Research Journal 8(1-2): 277-295.
Garcia-Fons, R. 2012a. ‘Renaud Garcia-Fons’, [accesssed 19August 2013]. Available at: http://www.renaudgarciafons.com
230 Gebhardt, Nicholas. 2001. Going For Jazz: Musical Practices and American Ideology. Chicago: University Press.
Gebhardt, Nicholas. 2015. ‘Introduction: Jazz as a Collective Problem’, in The Cultural Politics of Jazz Collectives: This is Our Music, ed. Nicholas Gebhardt and Tony Whyton. New York and London: Routledge, 1-15. Geertz, Clifford. 1988. Works and Lives: The Anthropologist as Author. Stanford: Stanford University Press.
--- 1973. 'Thick Description: Towards an Interpretative Theory of Culture' in The Interpretation of Cultures. New York: Basic Books.
Giddins, Gary. & Deveaux, Scott. 2009. Jazz. New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company.
Gilroy, Paul. 1993. The Black Atlantic: Moderntiy and Double Consciousness. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard Univeristy Press.
--- 2000. Between Camps: Nations, Cultures and the Allure of Race. London and New York: Routledge.
Gioia, Ted. 1997. The History of Jazz. London: Oxford University Press.
--- 1989. ‘Jazz and The Primitivist Myth’, Musical Quarterly 73(1): 130-143.
Goldsby, John. 2002. The Jazz Bass Book: Technique and Tradition. San Francisco: Backbeat Books. Gregory, Diane. & Belgrave Melita. 2009. ‘Identification of Requisite Skills for Guitar Accompaniment Proficiency’, Music Therapy Perspectives 27: 98- 102. Gridley, Mark C. and Wallace Rave. 1984. ‘Towards Identification of African Traits in Early Jazz’, The Black Perspective in Music 12(1): 44-56.
Hannerz, Ulf. 1990. ‘Cosmopolitans and Locals in World Culture’, Theory Culture Society 7: 237-251.
Harding, Harri. 2012. 'Rap' on ‘Kali and The Time of Change’, on Kali and the Time of Change. Sydney: Sirens Big Band, CD recording.
Heble, Ajay and Rebecca Caines (eds). 2015. The Improvisation Reader. Oxford and New York: Routledge.
Hedrick, Todd. 2008. ‘Race, Difference, and Anthropology in Kant’s Cosmopolitanism’, Journal of the History of Philosophy 2(2): 245-268.
Hodson, Robert. 2007. Interaction, Improvisation, and Interplay in Jazz. New York and London: Routlege. Hood, Mantle. 1960. ‘The Challenge of Bimusicality’, Ethnomusicology 4:55-59.
231
Jackson, Travis. A. 2002. ‘Jazz as Musical Practice’, In The Cambridge Companion to Jazz, ed. Mervyn Cooke and David Horn. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 83-95.
Jann Rutherford Memorial Award. 2014. ‘Jann Rutherford Memorial Award’ [accessed 29 august 2014]. Available at: http:www.jrma.com.au
Jenkins, Todd. S. 2006. You Know What I Know: The Music of Charles Mingus. Westport, Connecticut: Praeger.
Johnson, Bruce. 2000. The inaudible music. Sydney: Currency Press.
Jordan, Seth. 2010. World Music: Global Sounds in Australia. Sydney: UNSW Press.
Keil, Charles. 1987. ‘Participatory Discrepancies and the Power of Music’, Cultural Anthropology 2(3): 275-283.
Keogh, Brent. 2014. ‘A tale of five festivals: Exploring the cultural intemediary function of Australian jazz festivals’, Jazz Research Journal, 8(1-2): 182- 201.
Kernodle, Tammy. L. 2014. ‘Black Women Working Together: Jazz, Gender, and the Politics of Validation’, Black Music Research Journal, 34(1), 27-55. doi: 10.5406/blacmusiresej.34.1.0027
Klyton, Aaron. 2014. ‘All the way from … authenticity and distance in world music production’, Cultural Studies, 30(1): 106-128. Knowles, Samuel. 2007. ‘Macrocosm-opolitanism? Gilroy, Appiah, and Bhabha: The Unsettling Generality of Cosmopolitan Ideas’, Postcolonial Text, 3(4): 1-11.
Kraidy, Marwin. 1999. ‘[The Global, the local, and the hybrid: A Native Ethnography of Glocalization’, Critical Studies in Mass Communication 16(4): 456-476.
Lassiter, Luke. 2005. ‘Collaborative Ethnography and Public Anthropology’, Current Anthropology, 46(1): 83-106.
Laver, Mark. 2014. ‘Rebels and Volkswagens: Charles Mingus and the Commodification of Dissent’, Black Music Research Journal 34(2): 201- 227. Lehmann, Andreas C. & Ericsson , Anders K. 1993. ‘Sight Reading Ability of expert pianists in the context of piano accompanying’, Psychomusicology 12: 182-195. Lewis, George. 2004. ‘Impovised Music After 1950: Afrological and Eurological Perspectives’, in The Other Side of Nowhere: Jazz, Improvisation and
232 Communities in Dialogue, ed. Daniel Fishclin and Ajay Heble . Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 131-162.
Litweiler, John. 2009. Review. [accessed July 12 2017]. Available at: http://jazz.org.au/the-necks-in-north-america/.
Lomax, A. 1973. Mister Jelly Roll: The Fortunes of Jelly Roll Morton, New Orleans Creole and “Inventor of Jazz”. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press.
Manuel, Peter. 1993. Cassette culture. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
McEachern, Charmaine. 1998. ‘A Mutual Interest? Ethnography in Anthropology and Cultural Studies’, Australian Journal of Anthropology 9 (3) :251-264.
McGee, Kristin. 2008. ‘The Feminization of Mass Culture and the novelty of All- Girl Bands: The Case of the Ingenues’, Popular Music and Society 31(5): 629-662. --- 2013. ‘Promoting Affect and Desire in the International Industrial World of Smooth Jazz: The Case of Candy Dulfer’, Jazz Perspectives 7(3): 629-662. McGraw, Andrew. 2012. ‘The Ambivalent Freedoms of Indonesian Jazz’, Jazz Perspectives 6(3): 273-310.
McGuinness, Lucian. 2011. ‘A case for Ethnographic enquiry in Australian Jazz’, MMus diss., University of Sydney.
McNeil, Adrian. 2007. ‘Improvisation as Conversation: A Cross-Cultural Context Perspective’, Journal of the Indian Musicological Society 38: 4-21.
Meintjes, Louise. 1990. ‘Paul Simon's Graceland, South Africa, and the Mediation of Musical Meaning’, Ethnomusicology, 34(1), 37-73.
Mingus, Charles. 1971. Linear Notes ‘What is a Jazz Composer?’ from Let My Children Hear Music. New York: Columbia Records, CD recording.
Mitchell, Tony. 2013. ‘The Necks at 25: a changing same?’, Perfect Beat 14(1): 55- 77. Monson, Ingrid. 1995. ‘The Problem with White Hipness: Race, Gender, and Cultural Conceptions in Jazz Historical Discourse’, Journal of the American Musicological Society 48(3): 396-422.
--- 1996. Saying Something: Jazz Improvisation and Interaction. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press.
---1999. ‘Riffs, Repetition, and Theories of Globalization’, Ethnomusicology 43(1): 31-65.
--- 2007. Freedom Sounds: Civil Rights Call Out to Jazz and Africa. New York: Oxford University Press.
233 --- 2008. ‘Hearing, seeing, and perceptual agency’, Critical Inquiry 34(2): 36-58. Moore, Gerald. 1962. Am I Too Loud – Memoirs of an Accompanist. London: Macmillan.
Moran, A. 2016. The Public Life of Australian Multiculturalism: Building a Diverse Nation. Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan.
Morton, Jane. 1999. ‘Anthropology at Home in Australia’, The Australian Journal of Anthropology 10(3): 243-258.
Napier, John. 2004. ‘An Old Tradition but a Very New Practice: Accompaniment and the Saturation Aesthetic in Indian Music’, Asian Music 35 (1):115-134.
--- 2006. ‘A Subtle Novelty: Repetition, transmission and the valorisation of innovation within North Indian Classical Music’, Critical Studies In Improvisation 1(3): 1-17.
--- 2007. ‘The Distribution of Authority in the Performance of North Indian Vocal Music’, Ethnomusicology Forum 16(2):271-301. Nettl, Bruno. 1974. ‘Thoughts on Improvisation: A Comparative Approach’, The Musical Quarterly 60(1): 1-19. --- 1978. ‘Some Aspects of the History of World Music in the Twentieth Century: Questions, Problems, and Concepts’, Ethnomusicology 22(1): 123-136.
--- 1986. ‘World Music in the Twentieth Century: A Survey of Research on Western Influence’, Acta Musicologica 58(2): 360-373.
--- 1998. ‘Introduction’ in In the course of performance: Studies in the world of musical improvisation, ed. Bruno Nettl and Melinda Russel. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1-23. --- 2005. The Study of Ethnomusicology: Thirty -One Issues and Concepts. Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press.
--- 2014. ‘Improvisation’, Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, [accessed 17 March 2017]. Available at: http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.wwwproxy1.library.unsw.edu.au/subscr iber/article/grove/music/13738pg1#S13738.1 Neuman, Daniel. 1977. ‘The social organisation of a musical tradition: hereditary Specialists in North India’, Ethnomusicology 21(2): 233-245. ---1985. ‘Indian music as a cultural system’, Asian Music 17(1): 98-113. New South Wales Settlement Partnership. 2016. ‘Women in Harmony find strength and resilience through musical collaboration, New South Wales Settlement Partnership, [accessed 21 January 2017]. Available at: http://nsp.ssi.org.au/news-events/182-women-in-harmony-find-strength-and resilience-through-musical-collaboration
234 Nicholson, Stuart. 2005. Is jazz dead?. New York: Routledge.
Noone, Matthew. 2016. 'The Mongrel Metaphor: an arts practice response to understanding musical hybridization', Ethnomusicology Ireland 4: 1-23.
Nooshin, Laudan. 2003. ‘Improvisation as ‘Other’: Creativity, Knowledge and Power: The Case of Iranian Classical Music’, Journal of the Royal Musical Association 128(2): 242-296. Oh, Linda. 2005. ‘New Method of Rhythmic Improvisation for the Jazz Bassist: and interdisciplinary study of Dave Holland’s rhythmic approach to bass improvisation and North Indian rhythmic patterns’, Bachelor of Jazz Performance with Honours diss., West Australian Academy of Performing Arts. ONJ. 2014. ‘Orchestre National de Jazz Histoires D'onj: Volume 3 Claude Bethelemy 1989-1991’, [accessed on 5th of May, 2014]. Availbale at: from http://www.onj.org/en/record-onjstory/volume-3-claude-barthelemy 1989-1991-2/
Ouellette, Dan. 2002. ‘Form and freedom’, Strings 17(4) Nov/Dec. Pass, Kate. 2013. ‘A Transcultural Journey: Integrating Elements of Persian Classical Music with Jazz’. Bachelor of Music (Honours) diss., West Australian Academy of Performing Arts. Peplin, Steve. 2002. ‘Night Train’ in Bass Standards: Note-for-note Transcriptions of Jazz Bass Classica Performances ed. anon. Milwaukee: Hal Leonard, 65- 68.
Pian, Rulan C. 1992. ‘Return of the Native Ethnomusicologist’, Yearbook for Traditional Music 24: 1-7.
Pollock, Sheldon. 2002. ‘Cosmopolitan and Vernacular in History’, in Cosmopolitanisms’ in Cosmopolitanisn ed. Carol A. Breckenridge, Sheldon Pollock, Homi K. Bhabha and Dipesh Chakrabarty. Durham and London: Duke Univeristy Press,.
Porter, Eric. 1999. ‘"Dizzy Atmosphere": The Challenge of Bebop’, American Music 17(4): 422-446.
Qureshi, Regula B. 2007. Master Musicians of India: Hereditary Sarangi Players Speak. New York: Routledge.
Regev, Motti. 2013. Pop-Rock Music: Aesthetic Cosmopolitanism in Late Modernity. Polity: Cambridge.
Reid, Rufus. 2000. The Evolving Bassist. New Jersey: Myriad Limited. Rice, Timothy. 1997. ‘Towards a Mediation of Field Methods and Field Experience in Ethnomusicology’, in Shadows in the Field, ed. Gregory. F. Barz and
235 Timothy J. Cooley. New York and Oxford: Oxford university Press, 101- 126.
Richter, Martin (Max). 2006. ‘Grounded Cosmopolitans and the Bureaucratic Field: Musical Performance at Two Yogyakarta State Institutions’, Journal of Social Issues in Southeast Asia 21(2): 178-203.
Roberts, John Storm. 1985. The Latin Tinge: The Impact of Latin American Music on the United States. New York: Oxford University Press. Robson, Andrew. 2014. ‘Beyond Brigg Fair: Music Making with Grainger's Ghosts’, Paper presented at the Performance Studies Network Conference, Cambridge, 17-20 July 2014.
Robson, A. 2015. ‘Austral Jazz: A Practitioner’s Perspective on the Local Remaking of a Global Musical Form’. Ph.D. diss, Sydney Conservatorium of Music.
Rose, Jeremy. 2016. ‘A Deeper Shade of Blue: A Compositional Folio Informed by Ethnographic Research into the Sydney Jazz Scene’. Ph.D. diss., Sydney University.
Said, Edward. 1978. Orientalism. New York: Pantheon.
Saul, Scott. 2001. ‘Outrageous Freedom: Charles Mingus and the Invention of the Jazz Workshop’, American Quarterly 53(3): 387-419. Shadduck, Anthony. 2002. ‘Charlie Haden, Scott Lafaro, and Harmolodics: Bass Styles in Ornette Coleman’s Free Jazz’. M.mus. diss., Saint Mary’s College of California. Shadwick, Keith. 2002. Bill Evans: Everything Happens to Me - a Musical Biography. San Francisco: Backbeat Books.
Shand, John. 2009. Jazz: The Australian Accent. Sydney: UNSW Press.
Shipton, Alyn. 2001. A new history of jazz. London: Continuum.
Sirens Big Band. 2014. 'About Sirens Big Band', [accessed on 2 October 2015]. Available at: http://www.sirensbigband.com.
Sirens Big Band. 2012. ‘Liner Notes’ from Kali and the Time of Change. Sydney: Sirens Big Band.
Slawek, Stephen. 2009. ‘Hindustani Sitar and Jazz guitar Music: A Foray Into Comparative Improvology’, in Musical Improvisation: Art, Education, and Society, ed. Gabriel Solis and Bruno Nettl. Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press. Slobin, Mark. 1993. Subcultural Sounds: Micromusics of the West. Hanover, Wesleyan University Press.
236 Small, Christopher. (1977) Music, Society and Education. Hanover and London: Wesleyan University Press.
---1987. ‘Dear Mr Swanton’, 2 October 1987.
--- 2004. ‘visit’, 6 November 2004.
Smith, Julie Dawn. 2004. ‘Playing like a Girl: The Queer Laughter of the Feminist Improvising group’ in The Other Side of Nowhere: Jazz, Improvisation and Communities in Dialogue, ed. Daniel Fishclin and Ajay Heble. Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 224-243.
Solis, Gabriel. 2002. ‘Hearing Monk: History, Memory and the Making of a “Jazz Giant”’, Musical Quarterly 86(1):82-116.
--- 2009. ‘Introduction’, in Musical Improvisation: Art, Education, and Society, ed. Gabriel Solis and Bruno Nettl. Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1-20.
--- 2009. ‘Genius, Improvisation, and the Narratives of Jazz History’, in Musical Improvisation: Art, Education, and Society, ed. Gabriel Solis and Bruno Nettl. Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 90-102.
---- 2010. ‘I Did It My Way: Rock and the Logic of Covers’, Popular Music and Society 33(3): 297-318. ---- 2012. ‘Thoughts on and Interdiscipline: Music Theory, Analysis, and Social Theory in Ethnomusicology’, Ethnomusicology 56(3): 530-554. Stanyek, Jason. 2004. ‘Transmissions of and Interculture: Pan-African Jazz and Intercultural Improvisation’, in The Other Side of Nowhere: Jazz, Improvisation and Communities in Dialogue, ed. Daniel Fishclin and Ajay Heble. Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 173-194.
Stevens, Carolyn. 2008. Japanese Popular Music: Culture, Authenticity and Power. London and New York: Routledge. Stinson, Andrew. 2014. ‘Charles Mingus Played Bass?: Rediscovering a Jazz Soloist Through Transcription’, M.Mus diss., University of Missouri, Kansas City.
Stokes, Martin. 2004. ‘Music and the Global Order’, Annual Review of Anthropology, 33: 47-72.
Stross, Brian. 1999. ‘The Hybrid Metaphor: From Biology to Culture’, The Journal of American Folklore 112 (445): 254-267.
Taylor, Timothy. 1997. Global pop. New York: Routledge.
Tedlock, Dennis. 1986. The Analogical Tradition and the Emergence of a Dialogical Anthropology. Journal of Anthropological Research 35(4): 483- 496.
237
Tetzlaff, Dennis.1994. ‘Music for Meaning: Reading the Discourse of Authenticity in Rock’, Journal of Communication Inquiry 18 (1): 95-117. Titon, Jeff. 1997. ‘Knowing Fieldwork’ in Shadows in the Field, ed. Gregory. F. Barz and Timothy J. Cooley. New York and Oxford: Oxford university Press, 87-100
Tomlinson, Gary. 1991. ‘Cultural Dialogics and Jazz: A White Historian Signifies’, Black Music Research Journal 11(2): 71-105. Traphchak, Samuel. 2002. ‘Towards a Model of Jazz Bass Accompaniment on Standards Adapted to Uneven Metres: The Foundational Approaches of Larry grenadier, Scott Colley and Johannes Weidenmueller’, M.Mus., William Patterson University. Tsang-Houei, Hsu. et al. 2017. ‘Taiwan’, Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed July 10, 2017. Available at: http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/49502 Tucker, Sherrie.1998. ‘Nobody’s Sweethearts: Gender, Race, Jazz, and the Darlings of Rhythm’, American Music 16(3), 255-288. ---1999. Telling Performances: Jazz History Remembered and Remade by the Women in the Band. The Oral History Review 26(1): 67-84. --- 2000. Swing Shift: All-Girl Bands of the 1940s. Durham: Duke University Press.
--- 2004. ‘Bordering on Community: Improvising Women Improvising Women-in- Jazz’, in The Other Side of Nowhere: Jazz, Improvisation and Communities in Dialogue, ed. Daniel Fishclin and Ajay Heble . Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 173-194.
--- 2012. ‘Deconstructing the Jazz Tradition: The Subjectless Subject of New Jazz Studies’, In Jazz/NotJazz: The Music and It’s Boundaries, ed. David Ake, Charles H. Garrett, Daniel Goldmark. Berkley, Los Angeles & London: University of California Press, 263-284.
Walker, Margaret E. 2009. Master Musicians of India: Hereditary Sarangi Players Speak (review). University of Toronto Quarterly 78(1): 347-349.
Washburne, Christopher. 2001/2002. ‘Latin Jazz: The other Jazz’, Current Musicology 71-73:409-423.
--- 1997. ‘The Clave of Jazz: A Carribean Contribution to the Rhythmic Foundation of an African-American Music’, Black Music Research Journal 17(1): 59-80.
Watson, Christian. 2012. ‘How Musicians Develop the Ability to Improvise: A Cross- cultural Comparison of Skill Development in the Egyptian, Hindustani Classical and Jazz Traditions’, Ph.D. diss,. The University of New South Wales.
238 Weiss, Sarah. 2014 ‘Listening to the World but Hearing Ourselves: Hybridity and Perceptions of Authenticity in World Music’, Ethnomusicology 58(3): 506- 525.
Werbner, Pnina. 2006. ‘Vernacular Cosmopolitanism’, Theory, Society and Culture 23(2-3): 496-498.
Whiteoak, John. 1998. Playing ad lib. Sydney: Currency Press.
Williams, Richard. 2009. The Blue Moment: Mile's Davis's Kind of Blue and the Remaking of Modern Music. New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company.
Williams, Richard. 2010. ‘The Necks’, [accessed October 2016]. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/music/2010/jun/10/the-necks)
Willis, Michael Jarvis. 2011. ‘Israel Lopez “Cachao”: The Godfather of Cuban Bass” The history and Development of the Bass in Cuban Popular Music’, M.Arts. diss., York University- Toronto, Canada.
Wilner, Donald. 1995. ‘Interactive Jazz Improvisation in the Bill Evans Trio (1959- 61): A stylistic Study for Advanced Double Bass Performance’, D.M.A. diss,. University of Miami. Wren, Toby. 2014. ‘Talking in Tongues: Negotiating Archetypal Models for Musical Development in Intercultural Music Making’, Eras 16(1): 115-129.
Zolin, Miriam. 2013. ‘Sirens, yes. But the music always comes first’, 23 Feb 2013. [accessed29 august 2014]. Available at: http://australianjazz.net/2013/02/sirens-yes-but-the-music-always-comes- first/
239 Discography Australian Art Orchestra and Karaikudi R. Mani. 2009. The Chennai Sessions. North Melbourne: Australian Art Orchestra Recordings. Australian Art Orchestra and Young Wagilak Group. 2010. Crossing Roper Bar Vol. 1 & 2. In Crossing Roper Bar Vol. 1 & 2. North Melbourne: Australian Art Orchestra. Alister Spence Trio. 2006. ‘Marco Polo Goes West’, on Mercury. Sydney: Rufus Records.
--- 2012. Far Flung. RUFUS: Sydney Brahem, Anouar. 1998. Thimar. Munich: ECM.
Cave, Jenna. 2012. ‘Odd Time In Mali’, on Kalli and the Time of Change. Sydney: Sirens Big Band.
Clarke, Brendan. 2013a. ‘I'm Getting Sentinmental Over You’, on Stretch. Sydney: Brendan Clarke Music. --- 2013b. ‘Stretch’, on Stretch. Sydney: Brendan Clarke Music. Coleman, Ornette. 1959. The Shape of Jazz to Come. New York: Atlantic.
--- 1960. ‘Ramblin'’, on Change of the Century. New York: Atlantic.
--- 1961. Free Jazz. New York: Atlantic.
--- 1965. ‘Dawn’, on At The Golden Circle Stockholm. New York: Blue Note.
Coltrane, J. 1961. ‘My Favorite Things’, on My Favorite Things. New York: Atlantic.
Cunningham, Adrian. 2002. ‘Triste’, Unspoken. Sydney: Sony Studios. Davis, Miles. 1959. Kind of Blue. New York: Columbia.
Davis, Miles. 1969. In A Silent Way. New York: Columbia Legacy/Sony.
Dolphy, Eric. 1962. ‘Out to Lunch’, Out to Lunch. New York: Blue Note Records. Dunn, J. 2015. ‘Zaruni – Ashams’, Soundcloud, [accessed 23 March 2016]. Available at: https://soundcloud.com/jaidee-1/zaruni-ashams Evans, Sandra. 2009. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, on Australian Art Orchestra and Karaikudi R. Mani. 2009. The Chennai Sessions. North Melbourne: Australian Art Orchestra Recordings. --- 2012a. Cosmic Waves. Sydney: Underscore Records. --- 2012b. Kali and The Time of Change. On Kali and the Time of Change. Sydney: Sirens Big Band.
240
--- 2015. Kapture. Sydney: Rufus Records.
Garcia-Fons, Renaud. 1995. Alborea. Munich: ENJA Records Matthias Winkelmann GmbH.
--- 1997. Oriental Bass. Munich: ENJA Records Matthias Winkelmann GmbH.
--- 1997. Legendes. Munich: ENJA Records Matthias Winkelmann GmbH.
--- 2001. Navigatore. Munich: ENJA Records Matthias Winkelmann GmbH.
--- 2004. ‘Entremundo’, on Entremundo. Munich: Enja.
--- 2004. ‘Cristobal’, on Entremundo. Munich: Enja.
--- 2009a. ‘La Linea del Sur’, on La Linea del Sur. Munich: ENJA European Jazz Network New Musik GmbH (GEMA).
--- 2010. Meditêrranêes. Munich: ENJA Records Matthias Winkelmann GmbH.
--- 2012b. ‘Pilgrim’, on Solo-The Marcevol Concert. Munich: Enja.
Garcia-Fons, Renaud & Maurtinier, Jean-Louis. 1999. Fuera. Munich: ENJA Records Matthias Winkelmann GmbH.
Garcia-Fons, R. & Turkan, Deryan. 2010. Silk Moon. France: E-motive Records.
Haden, Charlie. 1970. Liberation Music Orchestra. Impulse: New York. Harrison, George. 1967. ‘Within you, Without You’, on Sgt. Peppers and the Lonely Hearts Club Band. London: Parlophone. Henderson, J.1993. ‘Blue Bossa’, The Standard Joe. New York: The Red Label. Holland, Dave. 2005. Free For All. Overtime. ECM: Munich. --- 2006. Critical Mass. Dare2: New York. Jarrett, K. & Haden, C. 2010. Jasmine. Munich: ECM. Jex Saarelaht Trio. 2014a. ‘5-19’, on Liminal. Melbourne: Jazzahead. --- 2014b. ‘Ivory Cutlery’ on Liminal. Melbourne: Jazzahead. Jobim, Antonio Carlos. 1967. ‘Triste’, on Wave. New York: Verve Music Group. Kirkwood, Ellen. 2012. ‘Balkanator’, on Kalli and the Time of Change. Sydney: Sirens Big Band. Le, Nguyen. 1997. Three Trios. Hamburg: ACT Music+Vision GMBH+CO.KG.
--- 2000. Bakida. Feldafing, Germany: ACT Music+Vision GMBH+CO.KG.
241 Lopez, Israel ‘Cachao’. (1957 reissued 2014). ‘Canta Contabajo’, on Super Danzones Volume 2. Barcelona: Vintage Music. Mehldau, B. 1999. ‘All the Things You are’, The Art of The Trio, 4: Back at the Vanguard. New York: Warner Bros Records.
Mingus, Charles. 1960. 'Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting', on Blues and Roots. New York: Atlantic.
---1962. ‘Ysabel's Table Dance’, on Tijuana Moods. New York: RCA Victor.
---2007. 'Fable Of Faubus', on Cornell 1964. New York: Blue Note Records.
---2007b. ‘So Long Eric’, on Cornell 1964. New York: Blue Note Records.
---2012. ‘Ysabel's Table Dance’, on Charles Mingus and The Jazz Workshop All Stars. E.U.: Rare Live Recordings.
Pettiford, Oscar. 1954. ‘Tricoticsm’, Oscar Pettiford. New York: Bethlehem. ---1955. ‘Oscalypso’, Another One. New York: Bethlehem. Redman, Joshua. 2007. ‘East of the Sun (and west of the moon)’, Back East. New York: Nonesuch. Reich, Steve. 1978. Music for Eighteen Musicians. Munich: ECM New Series. Rollins, Sonny. 1962. ‘Oleo’, on Our Man in Jazz. New York: RCA Victor. Shakti. 1976. Shakti with John McLaughlin. New York: Columbia. Slater, P. 2006. ‘The Thousands’, on The Thousands. Kimnara: Sydney --- (2006) ‘Tedium’, on The Thousands. Kimnara: Sydney Sruthi Laya and The Australian Art Orchestra. 2008. ‘Sacred Cow Tails’, on Into the Fire. North Melbourne: Australian Art Orchestra.
Swanton, Lloyd. 1994. ‘Home’, on Simple. Sydney: Bugle Records.
---2012. ‘Yonder’. on Yonder. Sydney: Bugle Records.
Tawadros, J. 2010. The Hour of Separation. Munich: Enja. - 2014. Permission to Evaporate. Sydney: Independent.
The Necks. 2007. ‘Townsville’, on Townsville. Sydney: Fish of Milk.
---2013. Open’, on Open. Sydney: Fish of Milk.
--- 2014. Ohioan. Copenhagen: Unseen Recordings.Video Recording[accessed 24 July 2015]Available at: https://vimeo.com/118171286
242 Tiba, Tara. 2014. ‘Autumn Leaves’ on A Persian Dream. Perth: Tara Tiba. --- 2014. ‘Fly me to the Moon’ on A Persian Dream. Perth: Tara Tiba. --- 2014. ‘Lamba Bada’ on A Persian Dream. Perth: Tara Tiba. Turkan, Derya. 2006. ‘Surgun (Exile)’, on Minstrel's Era. Turkey: Kalan Ses.
Wells, Ruth. 2012. ‘Hawassa to Addis’, on Kali and the Time of Change. Sydney: Sirens Big Band.
Youssef, D. 1999. Malak. Munich: Enja.
243 Audio-Visual Recordings Dattilesi, N (dir.). 2013. Renaud Garcia-Fons: Beyond the Double Bass. Austria: Koala, DVD Recording. Renaud Garcia Fons Official Channel. 2009b. ‘Cristobal’, Renaud Garcia-Fons with Kiko Ruiz and Keyvan Chemirani. Video Recording. [accessed 26 May 2014]. Available at:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wh7nZOTVhqY
244 Interview List Botting, Thomas. (2014) Personal interview with the author, 5 November. Clarke, Brendan. 2015. Personal interview with the author, 7 December. Cross, Abel. 2015. Personal interview with the author, 20 April. Dunn, Jessica. 2014. Personal interview with the author, 23 October. Dunn, Jessica. 2014. Personal interview with the author, 24 November. Garrido, Waldo. 2015. Personal interview with the author, 2 April. Pass, Kate. 2015. Personal interview with the author, 4 April. Rex, Philip. 2015. Personal interview with the author, 11 November. Swanton, Lloyd. 2014. Personal interview with the author, 15 July. Swanton, Lloyd. 2014. Personal interview with the author, 2 December 2014.
245 Appendix (a). Example 26. Swanton, Lloyd. 1994. ‘Home’, Simple. Bass line excerpt. 00:00:50-00:01:44 Transcription.
246