Tag Archive: improvisation


Has anyone considered improvisation from a cubist perspective?

Music for me is a quantum experience. I use the concept in quantum physics of superposition. To me, any note played implies many different possible notes to play. I call that superposition. Once the next note is played, more variations come into view. Has anyone else ever thought of music this way and, specifically, has any improvising jazz musician felt like they were not in total control of their output but couldn’t put into words what was happening?

If the metaphor of superposition is mysterious to you, then the concept of the unsolvable AI computer problem of P and NP is certainly not obvious. But to take LittleVoice’s putdown seriously consider the reference to time where P equals serial, linear time, and NP equals time in the sense that Einstein refers to time, that is, all time exists in every moment. Or, since I am referencing quantum physics, P equals the changes and NP equals all the possibilities and directions one can proceed in considered all at the same time–the concept of superposition. Therefore, the P NP problem is solvable by knowing the changes and then throwing them all away to allow anything to happen–and it will. What shapes the sound is our musical sensibility and this human quality is exactly what the P NP problem refers to when it requires Turing machines to solve the unsolvable. Jazz improvisation requires more than linearity. It is an art form. Miles is known for his simplicity and elegance–every note appears to have meaning. This is true of Coltrane, Dolphy, and the extension of bebop into hard bop into expression which is less obvious but more challenging. I feel like I am riding a wave, that I am searching for a deep structure, that I can trust the process. It is not so much mental as it is spiritual and emotional.

Has anyone considered improvisation from a cubist perspective?

I am always on the lookout for new metaphors to assist me to improvise jazz. My latest efforts have been the area of quantum physics. Unfortunately, quantum physics has no direction, no aesthetics, and no love. It is strictly probabilistic and functional. Cubism, on the other hand, is an artistic and geometric concept  which combines physics (planes, dimensions) with perspective, shape, and artistic creative energy. Besides, cubist art is my favorite form of art. While I’m attracted to 12-tone music, I’m a real novice at it and need to work more on treating it in terms of improvisation. Cubism might be a way to improvise from the perspective of shifting tonalities, rhythms, meter, scales, and atonality as vehicles to effective, moving expression.

For years scale and scaling up have been my north star relative to improvisation. Starting with western scales I evolved into modes such as the modes used in the blues, modes as defined by the Greeks, moving into scales prominent in non-western cultures such as Persian scales, Indian ragas, until I entered 20th century composers’ use of scales. Degas and the French artists were busy developing visual scales while Stravinsky, Schoenberg, Weber, Bartok, Babbitt and the electronic schools were developing the scales referred to in the literature (see Joel Leslie) as pitch classes.

I have been sidelined by the archaic concentration of jazz musicians on scales prominent in the blues, bebop, hard bop, and the development of free jazz. I thought I could fight my way around this block by figuring out chords and chord changes, but all I got were arguments from other musicians about what a particular pattern of notes were and how they ought to be represented as chords. My ear hears polychords and yet as I am coming to realize polychords are open to interpretation. My default to attempting to name a scale but with the inclusion of the actual notes I wanted to hear was helpful but actually only led to confusion.  I would say a set of notes would be one chord, and I would be told that that was the incorrect, or wrong, chord.

I can now see that it would be fruitful to change my concept of chord to that of pitch class. This means the Hungarian folk tunes of Bartok can be seen from the perspective not of chord but of an elemental scale described more accurately as a pitch class. Bitonality is more accurately referred to as different sets of pitch classes. And in fact, a scale is a pitch class.

This makes more sense to me. Instead of seeking a chord I can seek a pitch class. I can formulate on the fly my own pitch classes. It also condenses my effort to see intervals as the way out of my morass because I can place dissonance as a form of pitch class. Atonality, twelve tone music, electronic music—all are different forms of pitch class, contrasting pitch classes, and even an escape from the constraints of scales, chords, and modes. If a mode is considered a pitch class, then I can formulate my own modes by thinking of them as scales. This makes so much more sense to me. And, most importantly to me, I do not need to get into arguments with my friends and collaborators about whether this set of notes constitutes one chord or the other.