Improvised music, and especially non-idiomatic improvised music, is something that I am far from understanding. As much as I struggle with this inability to comprehend something that I find so compelling, it is precisely the mystery herein that keeps me returning. I read a quote yesterday from Frederic Rzewski (a composer, avant-garde musician, and professor) that struck me:

“The most basic technique of composition is that of transferring information from short-term memory to long-term: remembering an idea long enough so that one can write it down. This process of transference is also one of translation: reforming an impulse or feeling so that it can be expressed in some kind of symbolic language. The most basic technique of improvisation is that of short-circuiting this process of conservation: forgetting-momentarily at least-everything that is not relevant to the objective of expressing an idea immediately in sound. This process has more to do with spontaneous reflexes than with language.” (Cox and Warner 2004)

He later writes:

“In 1968 I ran into Steve Lacy on the street in Rome. I took out my pocket tape recorder and asked him to describe in fifteen seconds the difference between composition and improvisation. He answered: “ In fifteen seconds the difference between composition and improvisation is that in composition you have all the time in the world to decide what to say in fifteen seconds, while in improvisation you have fifteen seconds.” His answer lasted exactly fifteen seconds and is still the best formulation of the question I know.” (Cox and Warner 2004)

Over the course of the last few years, I have spent a good deal of time improvising (free-improvisation) with other players. I am presently living in a fairly remote area of Ontario, Canada and it is not likely that I will be playing with other people all that often. I also have a new son who alters a bit the way that time functions in my life. As comfortable as I feel playing with other people, I feel quite the opposite when improvising alone. I feel naked (exposed), lonely, ill-equipped, nascent, uncertain, slow of thought, and mildly confused. I feel predictable. I feel like I repeat myself endlessly and that I am, for the most part, unable to lose myself in the moment, which is what improvisation should be about. Because of my present circumstance, and because I wish to explore my own musical language in this way, I begin a project which I wish to share with you all. Every Sunday, I will record and upload one solo improvisation; completely unedited. In searching for a bit of meaning with this exercise, I cite Derek Bailey who writes eloquently about solo playing in his book Improvisation:

“The need to isolate and examine the problems of language, to connect and to extend it, are adequately answered by solo playing. But solo playing for the improviser can be more than that and above all can offer a method by which one can work continuously on all aspects of a body of music; an uninterrupted activity which relies not on time and place or structured opportunities for its occasion or on any of the different levels of acceptance and approval upon which performed music usually depends for its viability, but relies only on the player’s ability to develop his music, to maintain its evolution, and so guarantee his own continuing involvement.” (Bailey 1993)

So I embark on this idea. I could write a great deal more about improvisation and how it factors into everything I make as an artist and other aspects of my life like cooking, bicycle touring, etc., but I want to be somewhat brief here. I also have mixed feelings about recording improvised music, but ultimately feel that this will be a way for me to make this experience concrete. By putting this out into the world, I have to stand behind what I make. Keep in mind though, this quote from Cornelius Cardew:

“What recording produces is a separate phenomenon, something really much stranger than the playing itself, since what you hear on tape or disc is indeed the same playing but divorced from its natural context.” (Bailey 1993)

I have a few goals regarding the playing itself, which I will outline:

1. Limited use of looping. I find that I use looping when improvising, and want to leave that crutch behind for the moment.
2. Limited use of delay, which is to some degree short-term looping.
3. Silence: I find the use of silence incredibly important in improvised music, but I don’t feel as though I understand how to use it all that well, which I wish to explore.
4. Although I will mostly be playing electric guitar, that may change from week to week.
5. I will attempt to keep things fresh, by exploring different ways of making sound with the instrument.

I leave you with one last thought, another quote from Rzewski:

“In improvised music, we can’t edit out the unwanted things that happen, so we just have to accept them. We have to find a way to make use of them and, if possible, to make them seem as if we actually wanted them in the first place. And in a way, we actually did want them, because if we didn’t want these unwanted things to happen, we wouldn’t improvise at all. That is what improvisation is about.” (Cox and Warner 2004)

If you are interested in further readings, a small list of places to begin:

Improvisation: its nature and practice: Derek Bailey
Audio Culture: readings in modern music: Christoph Cox and Daniel Warner
Derek Bailey and the Story of Free Improvisation: Ben Watson
Arcana: musicians on music: John Zorn
Arcana II; musicians on music: John Zorn

Bailey, D. (1993). Improvisation : its nature and practice in music. New York, Da Capo Press.
Cox, C. and D. Warner (2004). Audio culture : readings in modern music. New York, Continuum.

recording # 1 date: 11.02.08

recording #2 date: 11.09.08