We were joined on stage by a number of exceptional jazz musicians for our recent Harlem Renaissance concert, but the one who stole the show was the quiet, unassuming keyboardist, Bobby Floyd. I’m still new enough at this that I often see some guest-artist’s name on our call-sheet, but don’t really know who they are until mid-week or even after the show has wrapped. Last season it was all the studio musicians who recorded David Bowie’s final album including John Cameron Mitchell who I grew up listening to as Dickon in The Secret Garden Broadway cast recording. Oh well 🤷
In the final rehearsal of the week I found out that Bobby’s first job was opening for Ray Charles, followed by some time with the Count Basie band and a Grammy nominated collaboration with Dr. John. Watching Bobby tear it up on the Hammond B-3 organ was a masterclass: he walked a bass line with one foot, controlled volume with another, adjusted 20 or so settings and then grooved up and down multiple keyboards simultaneously, all without looking at any music. The bass section missed an entrance by about 16 bars because we could not take our eyes off of him.
*this was the post-concert jam he was doing so people are milling about as they leave the hall. Thanks to Frank Duvall for the video.
So the question that came up for me this week was whether classical musicians can just make stuff up or improvise like Bobby.
Let’s look at this movie clip as an example:
Ohhh my musician heart weeps, wails and gnashes its teeth at this clip of a supposed duel between Mozart and Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-George. The woman swooning, the orchestra spontaneously knowing when to come in, the bluesy jazz riff in the mid 1770’s, violin players actually looking cool and having swagger—seems suspicious 🧐. But the core element I took umbrage with was the whole idea of an improvised violin duel. I have never seen something like that from classical musicians. Ever. (*I have heard of a couple colleagues who practiced for months to be able to improvise a solo cadenza, but even that is rare.)
Well as it turns out, I’m just living in the wrong century. Stuff like that actually happened; apparently Mozart and Beethoven were famously good at it. For them it went beyond an occasionally scuffle among local artists; improvisation used to be an important part of a musical education. Historians, including Bach’s biographer think that Bach’s Fugue in G minor was improvised in 1720 during Bach's audition for a church’s organ job in Hamburg.
So, what I’m getting at is that, yeah, most classical musicians nowadays can fiddle through your favorite pop tune on demand or make up a short melody if asked, but the really impressive stuff, the Bobby Floyd/Mozart/Jazz solo stuff doesn’t come so easily. It’s a specific skill that has to be practiced for years, and for musicians who spend 99.9% of their time trying only to play what’s on the page, those muscles are often non-existent.
And perhaps, maybe what I think is bad improvising is actually pretty cool to a non-musician. It’s all in the eyes of the beholder.
MORE IMPROV AND JAZZ
Quick on your feet: This violist has an incredible ear—and sense of humor! When he’s interrupted mid-recital by a cellphone, he doesn’t miss a beat!
Beautiful Piano: This is the jazz standard, When I Fall in Love, arranged by legendary jazz pianist, Bill Evans, and played here by Daniil Trifinov. I love the way the conductor sits down and watches the performance with rapt attention.
Jazzy Bach: An exciting new take on some classic C.P.E. Bach keyboard music.
Improvisation as therapy: In the field of music-therapy, improvisation is used as a therapeutic tool to facilitate problem-solving, develop social skills, and help people break out of a rigid fear of mistakes. I’m personally very intrigued by what this could do to help classical musicians develop musically and play more freely.