John Denver Epiphany

[April 2010] I was enjoying a rare evening at home with my wife, listening to some records (yes – Records). We were going through some sides that haven’t been spun in ages. A touch of jazz, a bit of disco, some “easy listening”, and then we ran across a record that I needed to spin again and again and again. It was John Denver’s Rocky Mountain High. Fantastic! He was a brilliant tunesmith and that song Prisoners is a work of Art. So here I am living in an entirely Dominican neighborhood of Manhattan listening to John Denver… Huh!?! What’s going on here?

A great thing about New York is that it’s a veritable smorgasbord of jazz music. It’s all here. You can go out on any night and find the specific style that you really dig. Bebop, Big Band, Vocal, Latin Jazz, Free Jazz, Swing, Post-Bop, Lounge Jazz, Experimental, Student Ensembles, Electric, etc., the list goes on and on. All of the music that I love to play on my horn.

When pausing to reflect, I am aware of a dramatic difference between the music that IS happening and the music that was taught to me during my previous academic existence. The Academic musical cannon contains “correct” music that you “should” listen to, especially as a trumpeter. There is a rich history of classical (and jazz) music that is Right. The repertoire contains famous orchestral works and excellent solo opportunities, it traverses the beauty of the baroque all the way to the angst of contemporary atonal composers, plus it can offer the opportunity to perform music written by the worlds greatest composers. I really do love this music, which is good considering the years of study and performance that I have invested both as a student and as a teacher. Yet this laborious study is not significantly represented within my current world of sound.

As an Artist, there is a constant need to self analyze, to reflect upon one’s creative output. I carefully consider the music that I would like to present, especially as a leader. I realize that life is too short to invest in a path that is not true. But something seems unsettling. There’s a hole in my head. What’s missing? Why don’t I feel complete when combining these two huge influences? Classical and jazz?

The epiphany:

I like John Denver’s music.

Here are some additional artists and bands that I’m almost embarrassed to like: Lionel Richie, Barry Manilow, Kenny Rogers, Dolly Parton, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Led Zepplin, Iron Maiden, ZZ Top, Cinderella, Guns & Roses, Living Color, Primus, Rage Against the Machine, Prince, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Sting, and the list goes on and on. They’re not highbrow or serious enough for classical musicians; and they’re not cool or obscure enough for jazz musicians. But there it is, dig it.

My complete musical package includes everything I’ve ever internalized through repetitive listening, including the Good, Bad and Ugly. I need to accept and deal with these three sides of my musical personality: Classical, Jazz AND Rock. I’m sure Rock and Pop has influenced my musical subconscious as much as jazz and classical, perhaps even more. Now I can play what needs to be played.

Axiom of Jazz: Choice lies not with what you export to the audience, but with what you import into your subconscious through diligent study.

If you aspire to be an improvising musician, you should play what needs to be played according to your own set of ears. Do NOT play what you think someone else thinks should be played; they hired you, or paid to listen to you, wanting to hear what you think should be played. Truly improvised creative musical ideas are based upon your musical subconscious, primarily built through what you choose to listen to over the course of your lifetime. This is what comprises your “voice” as a jazz artist. Believe in your own voice - I finally do.

Modern Range Expectations

[April 2010] This post addresses the range requirements of a modern professional jazz trumpeter, so it may be a little too specific for most people. You know… high notes and stuff…

Professional jazz trumpet players are expected to play higher today than ever before in the history of the instrument. Perhaps the closest historical comparison would be during the baroque era, or as Ed Tarr would say, “the golden age of the trumpet.” The picture above is a great example of a typical working trumpet section (L-R: Kelly Rossum, Seneca Black, Andy Gravish, Alex Norris).

Tarr claims that the golden age of the natural trumpet lies between 1600-1750 (can’t argue with that). The virtuosity required to perform even the simplest baroque trumpet music is often beyond the modern trumpeter’s abilities. To perform baroque melodies based upon stepwise motion and other standard melodic shapes, the trumpeter must stay in the upper most register of the instrument for the duration of the piece. The composers of the baroque era almost always wrote for individual performers, whom they knew personally, in order to assure the level of proficiency needed to execute their parts. These performers would occasionally take apprentices, to share the secrets of playing the trumpet. Only then would the master’s knowledge and experience, forged through years of heat (have You ever tried to play these things?!?!) be passed along to the next generation. Guilds of the time were very strict in allowing only highly trained trumpeters into the ranks of the artist class.

There are three primary factors contributing to today’s situation: 1) Jazz, 2) Technology, and 3) Population.

Louis Armstrong was a beast on the trumpet. Period. His influence went far beyond the virtuosic skills he so brilliantly incorporated into his improvisations; his persona influenced an entire nation’s cultural contribution to the world. The explosion of jazz across the globe (with Louis leading the charge) renewed a sense of wonder for the upper register of the trumpet. Trust me, the 19^th Century wasn’t so happening for high notes. Jazz also championed the individual skills of the performer, much more so than the previous focus upon the composer. This focus on individuality led to unusual techniques and upper register specialists. The first generation of individual jazz artists not only greatly influenced subsequent generations; they left unspoken technical challenges evidenced within their recordings.

The discovery and popularization of recorded music cannot be underestimated when discussing technical aspects of musical production on acoustic instruments (i.e. high notes). We do not have any aural records of Johann Altenburg or Goetfried Reiche; we truly do not know what they sounded like. With recorded sound, we can continue to study and learn decades past the actual performance. Modern technology also influences the production of the instruments themselves. Although a trumpet has primarily stayed the same over hundreds of years (buzz your lips in one end - sound comes out the other), the sheer availability of quality instruments has changed so radically over the past 100 years we forget to consider its global effect. And of course, we are now in the Age of Information, essentially connected to the combined consciousness of the human race through this little glowing screen in front of us. We can see and hear thousands of trumpeters, through decades of recorded media, at any moment. The next generation of trumpeters will be a sight to behold indeed! Technology has changed the world and we have yet to understand its long-term effects.

In this modern era, more people are playing the trumpet throughout the world, simply because there are more People. If we were to keep the same approximate percentage of virtuosic playing, as say the Golden Age of the Baroque Trumpet, and then factored in today’s Global Population, that would give us thousands more outstanding trumpeters today. This will only continue.

The results of these three contributing factors are most evident in today’s Big Band trumpeters.

The big bands of the 30’s and 40’s were so numerous; there were literally hundreds of working trumpeters. Out of that number, only a relatively small percent of them had the chops and training to play lead. Even the big name outfits only had one or two cats covering lead, the others really couldn’t (or wouldn’t) deal with the range requirements of the charts. I’m not knocking any of these players, far be it, the situation of today has just changed, that’s all.

The GRP big band from 1992 is an example of a band comprised of “stars”; now it’s commonplace for name big bands to be comprised entirely of absolute monsters, including the trumpet sections. The soloists are often lead players, and the lead players will often improvise. This could arguably be due to the increase in skill amongst the professional ranks in conjunction with the current number of working big bands.

The common division of roles still found in academia is simply not true in the professional arena. Most college bands are reading music that was actually written for college jazz ensembles. This of course creates a vicious circle of low expectations for big band trumpeters. The need isn’t there to develop a section of skilled individuals, because the charts are expressly written for their “assigned skills” (i.e. 2^nd = solo, 1^st = lead, 3^rd & 4^th = section). High school bands are even worse. Everyone SHOULD solo and everyone SHOULD play some lead. Before you think I don’t understand the difficulties of academia, consider the expectations of a professional Symphonic Orchestra musician. Nobody would ever expect a young professional to successfully audition for an orchestra after only focusing on the fourth trumpet part throughout their entire academic studies! Why is this considered OK for a Jazz musician?? In NYC, every chair can play every other chair on 97% of the charts. Plus, solos are often determined by the leader; when they point at you, blow!

When I listen to modern jazz trumpeters, especially when they are playing within the high-energy environment of a large ensemble, I realize the overall level of individual skill has risen dramatically during the past 50 years. They are not only heavy weight soloists, but are also outstanding section players (tone, pitch, blend), sight-readers, and can hold down a lead book if needed. Some of the names you may recognize are: Greg Gisbert, Sean Jones, Ryan Kisor, Wynton Marsalis, Alex Norris, Terell Stafford, Jim Seeley, and there are many, many more out there burning it up.

I believe we are entering a new golden age of the jazz trumpet. Dig it!

Full Time Art

Maybe its my slightly workaholic disposition, or my academic upbringings, either way, I thrive on being busy. The first week or so of February was my first taste of full time work, happening approximately 4 months after moving to New York City. Each day, I was running from rehearsal to rehearsal (literally running), performing shows at night, and practicing whenever and wherever I could. The most satisfying aspect of this week was that these performances involved bringing several artists' specific visions to life.

Suspended Cirque’s Speak Easy show, February 5th and 6th

Suspended Cirque is a troupe of dedicated performers, specializing in aerial acrobatics. The members are: Joshua Dean, Ben Franklin, Michelle Dortignac, Kristin Olness and Angela Jones. I had worked with a couple of aerialists in Minneapolis, so I thought I would know what to expect… nope. WOW, what a show! Speak Easy transformed the Galapagos art space into a 1947 gin joint and featured the vocal talents of Victoria Cave. Only in New York can a show come together in a venue like this. Galapagos is a club in the DUMBO neighborhood of Brooklyn, which features a 1600 square foot lake in front of the stage, intimate booth seating, a balcony and two full bars. It was the perfect setting for this spectacle of the senses.

Along with Victoria Cave (featured vocalist), the rest of the band was comprised of top-notch pros: Peter Kiesewalter (Band leader, piano), Ugonna Okegwo (bass), Eric Halverson (drums) and myself (trumpet). Chris Olness (trombone) was kind enough to join us as well, along with cast members Josh (trombone) and Kristin (saxophone) sitting in for a couple of tunes.

Here’s a review of the show, Speak Easy at Galapagos Art Space. The show was such a success, the troupe is back with Swinging’ at Jack’s in April!

Jeremy Walker’s Bootet, February 7th

Jeremy Walker is a pianist and a good friend of mine from Minneapolis, whose compositions reflect a strong Ellington/Monk vibe. He’s been honing his tunes for years with his Jazz Is Now! ensemble(s), and the music is viciously swinging and truly rewarding to play. He brought his book out to New York to launch his new group, the Bootet, down at Fat Cat in the village. The timing of the show was both a blessing and a curse; it was Super Bowl Sunday. The downside is that the usual NYU crowd that hangs out there was gone. The upside is that the usual NYU crown that hangs out there was gone - no pool playing! The musicians could hear each other and the audience was able to really embrace his compositions without the wall of sound usually heard down there.

A long time ago, I read an interview with a jazz musician who mentioned how he was in awe of all of the other musicians on stage; that’s how I felt playing this gig. Joining Jeremy Walker (composer, pianist) was: Ted Nash (saxophone), Vincent Gardner (trombone), Michael O’Brien (bass), Matt Wilson (drums) and myself (trumpet).

The music soared and sizzled, what a pleasure to play with these guys! Hopefully there will be more performances with this band after Jeremy moves to New York this summer. Check out these board recordings from the show: So Long New York, Play, Gringo Tango and This Is All Of Us.

Jomama Jones’ Lone Star CD release, February 9th

Way back in October, shortly after getting to town, I played some horn parts on the new CD project by Daniel Alexander Jones. The music was/is fantastic! I’m a big fan of Sly and the Family Stone as well as other ‘70s soul/funk bands, so this groove was a great fit for my ear. Daniel is an amazing talent; he channels the soul diva Jomama Jones, who by the way is a sweetheart as well, for the entirety of this project. The CD is entitled Lone Star. After the recording session, Daniel was gracious enough to invite me to perform with the band at the CD release show at Joe’s Pub.

The release show featured Jomama Jones and the Sweet Peaches (think Gladys Knight and the Pips). So in addition to Jomama Jones (vocalist), the Peaches were: Grisha Coleman (vocalist), Sonja Perryman (vocalist) and Helga Davis (vocalist). The band consisted of Bobby Halvorson (MD, drums) who flew in from L.A., Ted Cruz (keyboard), Nick Blossom (guitar), Eric Kim (bass) and myself (trumpet).

The show was sold out, weeks in advance, so hopefully this show will get an encore performance soon. Here are videos of Down, Down, Down and Lone Star recorded live at the show.

A final added bonus to this great week of music, is that by the end of the month, I actually hit my budget mark. The post-holiday months are historically slow for freelance work, so I feel extraordinarily lucky to finish my first February in the black. March, on the other hand…

Trumpet Bushido

[WARNING: Some of this post gets extremely technical and is primarily written for trumpet players. This is the obligatory musical equipment post.]

“The word bushido, the way of the warrior, thus requires some explanation. Bushi was the original term for the upper-class warrior. The Chinese ideogram used for this word has two component parts whose joint meaning has been variously interpreted. In any case, it seems to be a designation, in the Chinese cultural mode, of an upper class that ruled by knowledge (learning) and military leadership. Both qualities were considered essential to the “superior man” in China as well as Japan. Bushi made its first appearance in Japan in the Shoku Nihongi (completed 797) in the following passage: “Again, the August Personage [emperor] said, ‘Literary men and warriors are they whom the nation values.’” The term bushido as a formalized definition of the proper modes of warrior character and behavior – sometimes defined as “loyalty, self-control, and equanimity” – came into use in the late sixteenth century just before the beginning of the Tokugawa peace era.

The term samurai – which later, and in our time, became the name almost exclusively used for man-at-arms – was first employed in the tenth century and designated the lower-class professional soldier employed by the government, but not the higher-level mounted warriors described in the Heike Monogatari. Gradually, over the centuries, however, as the social and political climate and the nature of the armed forces changed, the word samurai almost totally displaced bushi. By the Tokugawa era (1600-1867) – that of the uncontested rule of the shogun (supreme military commander) and his warrior cohorts and allies – “samurai” included every man allowed to publicly wear two swords, with the possible exception of those super-samurai, the daimyo.” - Zen & The Way of the Sword, Winston L. King, p.125

The three primary weapons of the Samurai are the sword, the bow, and the musket. They serve as tools of destruction and as symbols of a specific lifestyle and ethos. I rely on my equipment, just as the Samurai warrior relied on his weapons, when I engage in musical combat.

Bach Bb Trumpet Stradivarious Model 37, Medium Large bore, silver plated, no. 211368 (ca. 1981)

This instrument was/is my first real trumpet; not including my actual first horn, a Conn student cornet. It came into my possession when I was still an elementary school student. I will never forget opening the case and seeing the most beautiful object in the world, a brand new, silver-plated Bach trumpet. The silver plating was so pure and bright, it reflected light like a mirror. Over the years, the horn has gone through countless modifications and alterations. In college, when tweaking your gear was truly in vogue, I replaced the original leadpipe with a Blackburn 20 leadpipe (1991). Later, I stripped the plating down to the raw brass and replaced the Bach S braces (between the bell and the leadpipe) with Conn straight braces, allowing greater ring in the bell because of an increased distance to the first brace post. Among many other modifications, I also built, with the help of Andrew Naumann, a unique curved tuning slide specifically for this horn.

Today I use this instrument in such ensembles as: electric bands, big bands, rock bands, latin groups, and some free improvisation settings. It’s my bar horn, my “frankenhorn”, best suited for unknown battle situations (literally, i.e. drunks fighting). After almost 30 years of "authentic battle damage" (Jack Black, Kung Fu Panda), it remains a truly great sounding instrument. I would compare it, in application, to the bow of the samauri. I often wield this horn in sections with other warriors, to hail a volley of arrows upon the enemy.

“A second requisite of the early samurai was that he be an archer of at least some skill. In those days of the cavalry’s dashing headlong toward enemy forces with the hoped-for impact of a battering ram, the warrior preceded his physical arrival at the enemy’s front-lines by a shower of arrows, released as his self-guiding horse galloped forward. The purpose of this, of course, was to breach the enemy lines so that the attackers could then gallop on through and wreak havoc on the disorganized enemy. Thus the mounted warrior carried a limited supply of arrows in a covered quiver slung over his back, from which they could be pulled one at a time as he rode. Shooting from horseback was, of course, no easy feat, especially when at full gallop, and required special training:

Three-target shooting (yabusame) involved launching the horse at full gallop in a proper direction, while releasing arrows directed at three targets, each constructed of a three-inch square of cardboard set on a pole along the horse’s path. Bamboo-hat target shooting (kasagake) was performed within the confines of a course known as the arrow way (yado), properly fenced and with a shelf at its end from which the bamboo hats were hung. The rider was required to launch his steed at full gallop and begin to hit those hats, first from a distance (tokasagake) and then at close range (kokasake).” – Ibid., p. 63

Blackburn Bb Trumpet, Large bore, Ambronze Bell 213120S, 20 leadpipe, 60-10R tuning slide, standard braces, brass finish, serial no. 253 (1993)

I remember receiving Cliff’s shop horn in the mail. Along with the valve section, there were a few different leadpipes, a couple of bells, and a couple of different shaped tuning slides. Upstairs in a practice room at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln (my undergraduate alma mater), I varied the components until I found the right combination for my tastes. I walked down a floor to the studio of Dennis Schneider, who was a Yamaha player (at the time). When Denny played the horn, he switched out the 20 leadpipe for the 19 leadpipe, and then immediately called Cliff wanting to purchase THAT horn! Cliff said that it wasn’t for sale, and he’d make one just like it for him; but he eventually gave in and Denny bought the shop horn. A few months later, I had my Blackburn as well. It had a raw brass finish for the first year, and then for its birthday, I sent it back to be gold plated (1994).

This horn was my main instrument all the way through graduate studies and well into the early stages of my professional career. It can play anything. Now I use it for classical music and some occasional studio work that demands a traditional, characteristic trumpet sound. To my ear, the caramel sound or this trumpet is an aural representation of the elegant curved sword of the samurai. I honed my trumpet bushido for 16 years on this instrument.

“In such an environment, good swordsmen were always needed; and since good swordsmen can be produced only by good training, swordsmanship instructors were in great demand by all hands – clan leaders, daimyo, shogun, and even the emperor’s court at times. Young warriors-to-be began to familiarize themselves with swords from an early age; At five years of age, they began wearing wooden swords; a little later, junior-size steel blades; and finally, full size swords in their early teens. By his middle to late teens, the young samurai was considered ready for combat. And between battles, any warrior worth his rice continually honed his warrior skills, particularly his swordsmanship, to a fine edge. In this situation, a kind of freewheeling competitive “system” grew up in which prospective employers vied for famous duels and battle-tested veterans to instruct their swordsmen, and ambitious swordsmen sought for positions as instructors. This loosely jointed apparatus gradually developed into the establishment of swordsmanship schools (ryu) throughout the country, each with its head instructor and its special method.” Ibid., p. 95

Naumann Natural Trumpet, Heavyweight, Amado water key, additional modern leadpipe, additional Bb crook, silver plated, serial no. DBG-214 (1995)

Naumann Natural Trumpet, Standardweight Package (German), Custom Wrap (which includes tassles), Amado Water Key, Gold plated, serial no. DGB-511 (1999)

At the University of North Texas, I was fortunate to be involved in one of the first natural trumpet ensembles led by Dr. Leonard Candelaria (Dr. C). One of my fellow graduate students, Andrew Naumann, had started building these instruments out of his Denton apartment. Andy and I were both avid fishermen and I remember him raiding the bait shops for sinkers, in order to get the lead he needed to bend the crooks. Don’t worry, most of the soldiering and metal work was actually done out on his balcony by the grill!

I have never preferred the piccolo for performing baroque trumpet music, the sound just isn’t right. The natural trumpets, even if they are far more demanding to play, have the most pure and beautiful trumpet sound imaginable. If I was forced to only perform with one sound, it would be that of a rich, full natural trumpet tone. The horn requires exceptional skill and endurance, especially when considering the control needed to execute accurate upper register lip slurs throughout the duration of a concert. It represents the essence of trumpet playing; it is the trumpet player’s trumpet. It is akin to the warrior shout of the samurai.

“One incidental dueling device, which was sometimes used, was the warrior shout as the attacker rushed forward to deliver his devastating stroke. Perhaps this was a throwback to the time of the charging horseman who loudly challenged his foes, partly out of sheer battle excitement, partly (he hoped) to strike terror into the opponent. In the classic dueling format, it was employed by the famous swordsman Miyamoto Musashi against his most famous antagonist, Ganryu (Sasaki Kojiro) at the moment of launching his fatal stroke – according to one account at least. No doubt it might be daunting, or at least distracting, when given full-throatedly at the climactic moment. In fact, it became a frequently used technique known as Kiai, practiced by some samurai along with swordsmanship. It was based on the concept of projecting one’s personal field of force against one’s antagonist in order to psychically disable him. It later became a fighting strategem in itself.” – Ibid., p. 65

Monette Bb Trumpet, Prana 1, Wide-radius, Gold plated, serial no. 2121 (2007)

I was in a unique situation of receiving an inheritance tagged specifically for purchase of a new musical instrument, so I traveled out to Portland for a shop visit. Dave makes some incredible horns and I wanted to play all of the different models. After deciding to focus on my jazz career, I was looking for a very specific sound in a new horn. I started with the extra lightweight lead instruments, gradually worked my way heavier, and ended with Ron Miles’ Samadhi that happened to be in the showroom that day. The P1 was a perfect balance of the newer lightweight models and his well-known heavy designs. It has the capability of blending with a saxophone unlike most other trumpets I’ve played, and the valves are like butter. I feel well armed for jazz combat.

Does this horn fill the role of the samurai’s musket? Is there some sort of magic or voodoo behind the metal? Will this new evolution of design affect the samurai as much as the musket could have? Will the samurai ban this new instrument only to be defeated by it in the future? Time will tell.

“Mircea Eliade has noted in various of his writings that metallurgy in its several forms in many different prehistorical and tribal societies had a mythical aura that made the smith a potent and sometimes awesome figure. He was mythologically akin to both shaman and the alchemist, those inhibitors of two worlds (the ordinary and the supernatural, super-sensible one) who inspired men with both hope and fear. The alchemist dreamed of a process by which the substances of the earth, especially the base metals, could be brought to their maturity and perfection and transmuted into pure gold by the “chemistry” of both physical and magical means. The shaman in his trances traveled to the supernatural world of spirits, forces, and influences at great peril, and he then returned to give his messages of counsel, warning, and healing to ordinary men.

Smiths were men of fire, often associated with demonic forces, their craft revealed to them by supernatural powers; they were sometimes feared and hated, at other times honored and respected. Sometimes they formed craft brotherhoods to be entered only by invitation. Their occupation, like the shaman’s, was hazardous because it involved contacts with two levels of reality: the demonic “underworld” of metals and fire, and the ordinary world of their craft productions. Their relations with shamans in various cultures have varied, sometimes hostile, sometimes cooperative and friendly; Eliade notes their relationship thus:

The “secrets of metallurgy” are reminiscent of the professional secrets transmitted among shamans by initiation; in both cases we have a magical technique that is esoteric. That is why the smith’s profession is usually hereditary, like the shaman’s. . . . Here it suffices. . . . to bring out the fact that metallurgical magic, by the “power over fire” that it involved, assimilated a number of shamanic exploits. In the mythology of smiths we find many themes and motifs borrowed from the mythologies of shamans and sorcerers in general.” – Ibid., p. 71

I have been, and continue to be, grateful to work with Cliff Blackburn and Tina Erickson; Andrew Naumann and his crew at Schilke; as well as David Monette and Dean Comely. My association and ongoing personal relationship(s) with these trumpet smiths, is a continued source of enjoyment and a highlight of my career. These artists are our modern sword builders.

Although these trumpets are my primary weapons in battle, the professional trumpeter must employ other instruments on a semi-regular basis.

“Some of these “unorthodox” techniques and their instruments were as follows: the iron-ribbed war fan, used by the bushi as well as others; the staff; the jitte, or side-pronged iron bar; the chain, sometimes by itself, sometimes on the back of a kind of sickle blade, used to neutralize the sword; two blocks of wood connected by a leather thong; a long-stemmed reinforced pipe, almost like a dull sword or bar of iron.” – Ibid., p. 65

Couesnon Flugelhorn, 109 bell, (no apparent serial no.)

Yamaha A/Bb Piccolo Trumpet, Custom YTR9820, short bell, 3 valved, silver plated, serial no. 301018

Antoine Courtois Cornet, Arban Model, shepard’s crook bell, serial no. 72509

Switching back and forth between all of the above mention horns can be difficult; yet when one switches, seppuku is not demanded. To perform on all of these instruments, specific, conscious adjustments are required since each has different peak efficiency points and resonant qualities. Only now, after spending years performing on each one of my Bb trumpets (exclusively, without change), may I move comfortably between the three. I would never attempt to wield them without keeping their individual peculiarities in mind. It is possible, once these variables have been internalized, to become immersed in a horn’s personality and ascend beyond the mechanics of the instrument into a Zen mindset, even while mastering multiple weapons.

The trumpet mouthpiece is a crucial element of each instrument, just as the handle and wrap are to the sword. I have never been one to switch mouthpieces frequently, preferring to solve challenges through practice; yet my choices have, and will continue, to slowly evolve.

Evolution of mouthpieces for the long sword:

• Conn 7C (cornet, summer 1980)
• Bach 7C (the switch to trumpet, 1981)
• Bach 5B (1988)
• Bach 3B (1995)
• Bach 3B w/ drilled out throat (1996)
• Monette B15M (STC1 weight, 1999)
• Monette Prana B15M S3 (STC1 weight, 2006)
• Monette Prana B15M S3 (P1 weight, 2007)

Evolution of lead mouthpieces for the short sword (the one used for seppuku!):

• Shew 1.5 (high school, Bobby turned me on to it)
• Schilke 6a4a (college marching band, I heard that Chase played this model)
• Warburton 5SV cup w/ 7* back (undergraduate big band)
• DiOrio 5E w/ GG back (graduate school and early professional work)
• Monette L2 (first Monette lead piece)
• Monette Prana B15L (switched at the same time as the new Prana B15M S3)

I have been playing the trumpet for 30 years. Every instrument I own, I treasure and maintain with love and respect. A sword will last for hundreds of years, as will a trumpet if they are both treated well and stored carefully. All of my instruments are practiced with reverence, in hopes that they will not fail me in battle, yet it is the warrior’s bujutsu that ultimately determines the outcome of the day.

"Thus Takuan (1573-1645, a well-known Zen monk) taught that no swordsman should “locate” (consciously center) his mind – that is, attention-cneter – at any specific point in his own body, not even in the body-central belly (hara). Fop example, one man said to him: “I place my mind just below my navel and do not let it wander. Thus I am able to change according to the actions of my opponent.” But Takuan countered, “If you consider putting your mind below your navel and not letting it wander, your mind will be taken buy the mind that thinks of this plan. You will have no ability to move ahead and will be exceptionally unfree.”

Where, then, shall he “put his mind,” the swordsman asked Takuan. He replied that if it is “put” anywhere at all in the body, then it becomes a prisoner of that part of the body. The proper method is not to put it anywhere, “and then it will go to all parts of your body, and extend throughout its entirety.” Then, and only then, will each body part perform its function properly – that is, naturally and instinctively. Therefore, Takuan counseled, “Because this is so, leave aside all thoughts and discriminations, throw the mind away from the entire body, do not stop it here and there, and when id does visit these various places, it will realize its function and act without error.”

As Takuan sees it, this is the swordsman’s Zen-inspired discipline. Zen, as a spiritual discipline of all life, is consistently opposed to rigidity, whether it manifests itself in sacrosanct doctrines, beliefs, rituals, or any tightly knit intellectual, attitudinal, institutional, or physical behavioral pattern. In any form, this is a non-Buddha-mind of spiritual fixity and death. And this applies across the board to all facets of living: fixity is death; fluidity is life. This is what Zen means by No-Mind, says Takuan:

“The No-Mind is the same as the Right-Mind. It neither congeals nor fixes itself in one place. . . . The No-Mind is placed nowhere. . . . When this No-Mind has been well developed, the mind does not stop with one thing nor does it lack any one thing. It is like water overflowing and exists within itself. [And most appropriately for the swordsman,] It appears appropriately when facing a time of need [i.e., when suddenly in combat]." -Ibid., p.168

The Other New York

I was talking with the guys on the gig this past weekend down at Fat Cat, and they were asking how things were going for me here in New York. Having no “Other” vision than the current reality of “New York” and all that that implies in my head, I told him things are fine; really good in fact.

I’ve learned that things weren’t always this way.

First off, and seemingly the most obvious difference between reality and, well, the “Other New York” is our Economy. The unemployment rate in New York City is around 10%, we’re clearly in the midst of a National Recession, and basically every major music market has been drastically affected. Really.

After speaking casually with people out here, there seems to be fewer private parties, especially those big, high paying ones. You know, the ones with shrimp at the buffet (and musicians could eat), fancy dresses, VIPs and valet parking? Well, when those parties don’t happen and the musicians aren’t getting the big calls, they can still play their regular gigs. This is not a musical slam, oh no, these regular gigs employ some of the finest musicians on the planet! All of the house bands, Broadway shows, orchestras, operas, club dates, experimental ensembles, touring groups and soloists are still cranking out music on a daily basis.

It’s just that the subs don’t get as many calls.

Broadway pits have reduced in size as well compared to the “Other New York.” This seems to be reflected in people’s excitement over large, full pit revival productions. Everybody loves a full sound, especially on these classic productions. There are a few shows running, however, who use the barest minimum of live musicians possible. Simulated big band music can be heard, but still… simulated big band music can be heard. Hmm. Those who do have the few great seats in the pit, are using their seatbelts.

It seems that the Latin band scene is gone or has diminished. The “Other New York” must have been heaven! This place is fantastic. Right here, right now.

Another sign of the times is that the Record companies are cutting way back. Recording sessions have been in decline for years. This seems to affect this city more than many other music towns, especially within the jazz circles. I personally feel it’s a massive after effect from major labels shutting down their jazz rosters, essentially stopping the flow of corporate money into the scene. The race to sign new talent is a long gone thing of the past. Being from Minneapolis, (a major jazz scene without a major label) I recognize the feeling of optimism among artists coupled with the creative desire to put out music, no matter what. Smaller labels recognize this as well; some are going “boutique”, or, charging artists to release an album. Thankfully there are some high profile, strong willed and creative independent artists and labels still here, as always.

An inevitable side effect of concentrated excellence, is that the young and dedicated stream here from all over the planet. This next generation of musicians, of which no major label will hear, would blow people’s minds. All of them are conversant in modern marketing methods and have the musical chops to back up their savvy. I was in a conversation with a fantastic, nationally recognized figure in the jazz world regarding booking shows around town, mentioning that I was competing for gigs with 19 year olds and he said, “We all are.” While financially frustrating, the potential for musical creativity and collaborative genius is unparalleled anywhere on the planet. This is jazz. New York hosts a global effort pursuing a musical dream of communication through improvisation.

The night I was subbing at Birdland with the Chico O’Farrill Latin Jazz Orchestra, one of the band members said to me on break, “You picked a hell of a time to move to New York.” At the time, I think he was comparing the status quo to the “Other New York”, but in my opinion, I couldn’t have picked a better time to come here. The unyielding optimism I’ve seen in New York’s jazz artists is a wonder in itself. It’s a tangible thing; you can actually feel it. Without fail, each show that I’ve played has put me in a fantastic mood, and has challenged me to my core. It’s like plugging into a pure source of ki. There’ve been amazing performances, amazing music and consistently solid crowds. All of the musicians share a single purpose,

They’re all here to play.

And they’re really nice. (Seriously, these people are really, really nice human beings!)

So far, I’ve been honored to perform with these groups: The Joshua Shneider Easy Bake Orchestra, Chico O’Farril’s Afro-Cuban Jazz Orchestra, George Gee Big Band, Michael O’Brien Greater Than Five, Anti-Social Music, Lou Caputo’s Little Big Band, Howard Williams Big Band, a special guest appearance with my good friends The New Standards (out of Minneapolis) and a new recording project by Daniel Alexander Jones.

Plus I’ve played and/or caught up with more people than I can keep track of, but here’s a short list: (in no particular order) David Gibson, Frank Kimbrough, Alexander Pope Norris, Geoff Vidal, Jon Davis, Joe Burgstaller, Pablo Masis, Michael O’Brien, Max Seigel, Shawn Edmonds, David Smith, Mark Miller, Stephanie Richards, Welf Dorr, Eric Halvorson, Joshua Shneider, Tom Bergeron, Lori Ann Taylor, Russ Nolan, Frank Greene, Mike Engstrom, John Walsh, Avram Fefer, Nate Wooley, Nick Videen, Paul Francis, John Guari, John Raymond, Mark Gross, Christopher Rinaman, Greg Diamond, Omar Abdulkarim, Wilmer Wise, Matthew McDonald, Thomas Heflin, Jeff Hirshfield, Matthew Jodrell, Ted Nash, Kirk Knuffke, Peter Evans, Laurie Frink, Howard Johnson, David Berkman, Roger Lent, Jason Wiseman, Dave Douglas, Billy Fox, Chris DiMeglio, Ty Citerman, Daniel Kelly, Chris Carroll, Daniel Alexander Jones, Sam Burtis, Rudy Albin Petschauer, Benjamin Healy, Evan Mazunik, Andy Gravish, John Eckert, Jim Seeley, Charles Blass, Eli Asher, Arturo O’Farrill, Bill Crow, Justin Mullens, Noah Bless, Frank Basile, Curtis Fowlkes, and many more… (give them a listen, great stuff)

And I can’t even begin to list the wonderful musicians that I’ve heard play live. Wow, what a town. Maybe someday, this will be my “Other New York”.