Ivories

Miles Davis once said that if he’d spent half of his practice time on the piano, he wouldn’t just have been a better piano player, he would have been a better trumpet player, too.  Based on which, about a year ago, I started including some piano playing in my trumpet practice sessions.

The piano is a visual instrument – you can see the notes laid out in front of you – and I found that even playing painfully slowly through the chords of a jazz song was a great way to understand better the harmonic structure.  It inevitably gave me ideas and insights for improvising on the trumpet.

That said, most people don’t want to hear a jazz piece actually performed at a two notes per thirty seconds pace – the speed at which I was able to clumsily bang out chords with my fingers.  So piano remained strictly an academic tool, not something I could actually play as a musical instrument.

Two months back, I decided I needed to change that.  I got two basic piano methods (Alfred’s and Thompson’s), to work through site-reading, correct hand placement, etc.  And I whipped out the encyclopedic Patterns for Jazz, which lays out 500 or so stereotypical jazz phrases that work as building blocks in improvisational solos, which you can then transpose in your head (and out through your fingers) in all twelve keys.  And, for about twenty minutes each morning since, I set to work.

At this point, I’m still not booking Carnegie Hall or the Village Vanguard any time soon.  But, this morning, for the first time, as I worked on a Maj9 chord bebop pattern, I caught myself thinking, “that actually sounds pretty good!”  Which was gratifying enough to ensure I’ll be sticking with piano practice for the foreseeable future.  Sure, it’s slow and painful going.  But after even this short stretch, it’s amazing how fast progress adds up when you chip away at something day in and day out.

The Ears Have It

Recently, I discovered this great blog series on jazz improvisation, which has been excellent food for thought. If you’re a jazz musician trying to improve your game, it’s worth a read.

And, similarly, I’d highly recommend this ear training app, developed by the author of the series.  Unlike most ear training programs, which depend on tapping answers on screen, this one uses pitch recognition to let you play in call-and-response format on your actual instrument.  It’s a challenge, but one that seems to translate much more immediately to real improvising.

My Foolish Heart

It was the final song of a two hour session, so my chops were basically fried, but I love the song too much to have not recorded it:

Trumpeters

“We grow up hearing that trumpeters blew down the walls of Jericho, that Gabriel’s trumpet announces the will of God, and that the largest and hippest of all animals, the elephant, has a trunk mostly (we think) for trumpeting. These grandiose images shape the classic trumpet persona: brash, impetuous, cocky, cool, in command. Anyone who has ever played in a band knows that if the conductor stops rehearsal because a fight breaks out, if somebody takes your girlfriend, if a tasteless practical joke is pulled, if someone challenges every executive decision no matter how trivial, it’s got to be a trumpet player. That’s just how we are.”
– Wynton Marsalis, Sweet Swing Blues on the Road,

Some People Call Me Maurice

While all the cool kids have, for years, been streaming rather than purchasing music, and though I’ve long had a Spotify subscription that I occasionally used to find tracks that popped to mind, I’d long listened primarily to the overly large collection of music I actually owned – much of it dating back to ripping MP3s of my now-retired CD collection back in the later 90’s and early 00’s – rather than stuff from the cloud.

With the launch of Apple Music, however, I’ve been listening to streaming music first and foremost. And though it’s occasionally led me to repeat plays of some rather suspect choices (no, seriously, “Trap Queen” is an excellent song!), it’s also allowed me to wander through a bunch of choices – some of which I’d even owned – that I might otherwise have ignored or missed.

Today, I spent six hours and seventeen minutes straight listening to John William’s soundtracks for all three original Star Wars films, sequentially. And, holy crap, is that some awesome music.

I mean, sure, it’s basically Holst repurposed, with a Wagnerian leitmotif structure and a liberal pulling from E. W. Korngold. But, seriously, that’s some compelling, magical stuff.

In particular, and in a way that you rarely hear in scores recorded one-off with a studio orchestra, the London Symphony is so amazingly tight, in tune and synchronized across articulation and volume. Above it all floats Maurice Murphy’s principal trumpet – alternatively soaring majestically and cutting incisively. It’s everything an amateur classical trumpeter might aspire to be.

If you haven’t listened to those scores – and, ideally, to all of them one after another – take advantage of the power of streaming music to do so. If that doesn’t make you fired up to vacuum, sort files or clean your bathroom, nothing will.

Self-Comparison

Another jazz story:

While I was a student at Yale, I was lucky enough to study with Allan Dean, a trumpet player who taught in the Graduate School of Music, but who occasionally would take an undergrad or two as a student for private lessons. Dean was a legendary freelancer for decades in NYC, and recorded on everything from an array of Phillip Glass pieces to NBC’s Olympic Fanfare and the soundtrack to The Wiz.

When he first came to NYC, barely twenty years old, however, Dean wanted to be a jazz musician. So his first night in town, he brought his horn to a jazz club (I think it was the Village Vanguard) for an open jam session. Just as he arrived, an equally young black kid was going onstage with a trumpet in hand, so he put his case down next to his feet, and sat down to listen.

Over the first song, and the ones that followed, Allan started slouching in his chair, scooting the trumpet case further and further under the table. The kid was amazing. Mind-blowingly good. And if the first random kid you heard in a city was that impressive, he reasoned, there was just no way in the world he’d cut it playing jazz professionally. So, he went home, started working on the classical end of things, too, to balance out his skills, and embarked on a commercial freelance career instead.

It was a year or two later when Dean realized that kid had been Clifford Brown, who quickly went on to become one of the two or three greatest jazz trumpet players of all time.

The Doctor’s In

eddie

Headed to Smoke last night, to see the great trumpeter Eddie Henderson play Wayne Shorter tunes with his quintet (which includes the equally legendary Gary Bartz on saxophones, and Billy Drummond on drums).

I’ve always admired Henderson, a Miles Davis protege who played for substantial stretches with both Herbie Hancock and Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers.

But, before he did, he also went to med school. And, the whole time he was building one of the most admired trumpet careers in jazz, he worked as a family physician in San Francisco. It’s a good reminder that having jazz as just one of the things you do is no excuse for falling short of the top.

Time to practice.

Release the Animals

If you live in New York and have kids, or know someone who does, consider catching the Greenwich Village Orchestra’s annual family concert tomorrow afternoon.

I got roped into subbing the principal trumpet part, and by the looks of this morning’s dress rehearsal, the concert should be a lot of fun: built around Saint-Saen’s “Carnival of the Animals”, replete with narration, costumed dancers playing the animals, and a post-concert ‘instrument petting zoo’.

Takes place tomorrow (Sunday, December 16), 3:00pm at Washington Irving Auditorium (Irving Plaace between 16th & 17th).

[As a bonus for attending, you can also marvel at my terrible, terrible attempt at playing a horse whinny sound on the trumpet at the end of the ‘Sleigh Ride’ finale. Giddyup!]

Tooting their Horn

This evening, headed to a special joint concert between the New York Philharmonic and the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra. The two played, respectively, Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker, and Duke Ellington’s arrangements of the same music, switching back and forth to allow the audience to compare the original classical and more newly jazzified versions of each movement.

As the concert also included Copland’s El Salon Mexico, it gave me the chance to hear featured playing from two of my favorite trumpet players in the entire world: the NY Philharmonic’s Phil Smith, and the JLCO’s Wynton Marsalis.

As ever, I headed home not sure whether to start practicing, or give up playing the trumpet completely.