Do as I do, not as I say…Phil Dwyer

July 17, 2016

A lot of times when I’m teaching I find myself expounding on things which don’t necessarily reflect how I approach music or my general philosophy. An example would be teaching someone scale theory, or modes (although I rarely mention the latter unless it’s in the context of something to put on ice cream). That’s all well and good, but teaching someone the ‘bebop’ scale is somewhat akin to handing a medical student a scalpel and saying, “here, we use these…have at ‘er.” The resulting butchery in medicine and music is likely to be similar, albeit with varying degrees of danger to the patient. I think part of the reason for defaulting to this approach is that I find it really hard to quantify how I learned things. Over the next little while I am going to try and decode it a bit, if only for my own edification.

I was never much of a theory guy when I was learning – at least not in terms of how much time I spent thinking about theory relative to the amount of time I spent playing. However, one thing that I did find very helpful over the years was to extract short motifs from recordings and use them as the basis for my practice. I think the reason I was attracted to this method is that I would get the dual benefit of improving my technique and, by emulating the phrasing, articulation, etc., from the recording I would improve my time feel and other conceptual aspects of the improvisational process.

I was pondering this the other day while I was playing my horn and just kind of randomly started playing this particular phrase that I learned from a record called The Sound of Sonny (Sonny being Sonny Rollins). The tune was a kind of a silly tune called Toot Toot Tootsie but as usual Sonny made the most of it. Near the end, after the piano solo there is a solo break where Sonny modulates up 3 semitones with a repeated phrase going up chromatically, with the last phrase leading beautifully into the top of chorus. Here is it is.

Toot Toot Tootsie

I’m not even sure this is 100% accurate, but that’s not even the point exactly. It’s certainly close enough to get the benefits. If you took this 12 bars of music, played it along with the recording many times until you had it embedded in your brain, and then worked it through a bunch of different keys then you would really done something of value to your saxophone playing and overall musicianship. More on this later, but for now I have to get back to studying legal cases! Best, Phil Dwyer

 

 

 

Some transcription examples…

July 8, 2016

After that excellent series by Pat MacGibbon on lifting solos, we thought it would be good to show some examples of well done transcriptions. Montreal saxophonist/composer and educator Remi Bolduc is legendary for his transcribing. You can find many of his ‘lifts’ here. Among them is a solo played by SeaWind co-founder Phil Dwyer on his 2004 recording Let Me Tell You About My Day. Here is “Afternoon in Paris“.

How to lift solos (and actually learn something) part 3

July 7, 2016

In two recent posts entitled “How to lift solos (and actually learn something), part 1” and “How to lift solos (and actually learn something), part 2”, I introduced the idea of different levels of thinking. Here’s a quick recap in case you haven’t read those articles yet.
Common things like melodic patterns, diminished and whole tone licks, arpeggios, triads, scales, and all other kinds of similar ideas benefit you most if you engage with them at the higher levels of thinking.
What do I mean by that? Well, you know the musician who knows every Charlie Parker solo, but only ever plays Charlie Parker licks? He does that because he’s only ever processed that material at the lower levels of thinking. Compare him with the musician who has taken the time to deconstruct those same licks on a conceptual level and is able to play in the style of Charlie Parker without actually reproducing any of his exact licks.
This idea echoes the philosophy of jazz trumpeter Clark Terry as quoted at the beginning of this article. It’s also inspired by an educational theory called “Bloom’s Taxonomy,” which is far too in-depth for one little blog post, and far more complex than what I’m presenting to you here. However, if the idea of different levels of thinking intrigues you, then I recommend that you check out Bloom’s theory further.
For our purposes, I’ve broken the learning process down into three basic levels of thinking:
1.    Copycat
2.    Locate Your Light bulb
3.    Adapt and Create
You need to go through all three levels of thinking if you want to learn an idea in a true and complete way. In fact, I would go so far as to say that anyone who learns anything truly and completely always goes through all three levels of thinking whether he’s intentional about it or not.
You can’t proceed to the higher levels until you’ve dealt with the lower levels, but it is possible to deal with the lower levels and then neglect to move on to the higher levels. That’s why it’s so important to understand how the process works. Sometimes you can progress through all three levels very quickly, so that you barely notice them, and other times it takes far longer. Regardless of how much time you spend on each stage, the process is always the same. It applies to learning things like jazz improvisation and composition, and it also applies to learning through-composed repertoire in a way that allows you to interpret it freely and masterfully.
In the previous installments of this article, we looked at the first two levels. Let’s take a look at the third level.

Adapt and Create
This level of thinking is about becoming so familiar with the conceptual information that you’ve extracted in the second level of thinking that you’re free to reach new creative heights by turning it into ideas of your own. You do this by adapting that lick, pattern, scale, idea, or song in as many different ways as possible while keeping the core conceptual content intact.
This is where, having done your dissection, you put everything back together and turn it into something new (to you)! It’s not enough just to deconstruct an idea and tear it down to its foundation; you have to rebuild it again and then find a way to make it work for you creatively. You can do this in a number of ways, but my most commonly used strategy looks like this: Think of a lick or idea that you’ve transcribed (or learned in some other way) and analyzed thoroughly. You know the notes, rhythms, and other basic details like the back of your hand, and you’re aware of the conceptual information on which it’s based. Now it’s time to get creative, and you can do that in the following ways:
    Change the beginning, and keep the middle and ending the same.
    Change the ending, but keep the beginning and middle the same.
    Change the middle, but keep the beginning and ending the same.
    Change the beginning and middle, but keep the ending the same.
    Change the middle and ending, but keep the beginning the same.
    Change the beginning and ending, but keep the information in the middle the same.
    Change everything, but keep the overall conceptual framework the same.
    Do all of the above over different harmonic forms.
    Do all of the above over different rhythmic forms and time signatures.
    Combine it with other concepts and ideas.

Does It Always Apply?
To be realistic, not everything that you practice needs to go through all three levels of thinking all the time. Some activities exist to build basic mechanical skills on your instrument. Brass and woodwind players do certain activities to build their range. Pianists do certain activities to encourage dexterity and independence in each hand and finger. Many of these exercises are little more than repetitive tasks that produce muscle memory and build a certain level of technical skill.
I suppose you could dig into why they’re effective at producing the desired result and then adapt them to come up with new exercises that accomplish the same purpose, or adapt them to suit whatever your particular needs are with maximum effectiveness. That might be highly worthwhile, but I doubt that you’ll go through this process with every activity of this kind that you practice.
However, there are certain things that you always should take through all three levels of thinking without fail. These are the items that target the creative aspects of your musicianship, like activities that deal with melodic conception, harmonic conception, and rhythmic conception.

How to lift solos (and actually learn something), part 2

June 30, 2016

How to lift solos (and actually learn something), part 2

In a recent post entitled “How to lift solos (and actually learn something), part 1”, I introduced the idea of different levels of thinking. Here’s a quick recap in case you haven’t read that article yet.
Common things like solo transcriptions, melodic patterns, diminished and whole tone licks, arpeggios, triads, scales, and all other kinds of similar ideas benefit you most if you engage with them at the higher levels of thinking.
What do I mean by that? Well, you know the musician who knows every Charlie Parker solo, but only ever plays Charlie Parker licks? He does that because he’s only ever processed that material at the lower levels of thinking. Compare him with the musician who has taken the time to deconstruct those same licks on a conceptual level and is able to play in the style of Charlie Parker without actually reproducing any of his exact licks.
This idea echoes the philosophy of jazz trumpeter Clark Terry as quoted at the beginning of this article. It’s also inspired by an educational theory called “Bloom’s Taxonomy,” which is far too in-depth for one little blog post, and far more complex than what I’m presenting to you here. However, if the idea of different levels of thinking intrigues you, then I recommend that you check out Bloom’s theory further.
For our purposes, I’ve broken the learning process down into three basic levels of thinking:
1.    Copycat
2.    Locate Your Lightbulb
3.    Adapt and Create
You need to go through all three levels of thinking if you want to learn an idea in a true and complete way. In fact, I would go so far as to say that anyone who learns anything truly and completely always goes through all three levels of thinking whether he’s intentional about it or not.
You can’t proceed to the higher levels until you’ve dealt with the lower levels, but it is possible to deal with the lower levels and then neglect to move on to the higher levels. That’s why it’s so important to understand how the process works. Sometimes you can progress through all three levels very quickly, so that you barely notice them, and other times it takes far longer. Regardless of how much time you spend on each stage, the process is always the same. It applies to learning things like jazz improvisation and composition, and it also applies to learning through-composed repertoire in a way that allows you to interpret it freely and masterfully.
In the first instalment of this article, we looked at the first level of thinking. Now, let’s take a look at the second level.

Locate Your Lightbulb
In my mid-twenties, I decided to transcribe the Charlie Parker solo from the bebop tune Ornithology. I transcribed a lick that sounded really great to me, but which I didn’t understand at all. I had no idea why he played the notes that he played, and I couldn’t figure it out, no matter how much I thought about it.
Sometime later, I was fortunate to have a lesson with Vancouver saxophonist Mike Allen, and he helped me to understand the theory behind the notes. I finally understood how it was constructed and why it made sense, and in that particular instance, it formed a watershed moment in my development as a player.
This level of thinking is about going beyond the notes, rhythms, and basic mechanics of a particular idea to extract the root conceptual ideas upon which it’s based. I chose the words “locate your lightbulb” very carefully for two reasons:
The word “lightbulb” communicates the fact that this is about making new discoveries. Every lick, pattern, scale, idea, or song – no matter how simple – has something new to offer with regard to your creative development, so the learning process is never complete. It doesn’t have to be new to the world, it just has to be new to you. However, you have to show up with a willingness to find it, which brings me to my next point.
The word “locate” communicates the fact that this process doesn’t just happen naturally; you have to be deliberate about it. You have to take that lick, pattern, idea, or written solo into the operating room and dissect it, and then you have to find and extract something of value that you can take with you.
How do you do this? Every musician would give you her own unique answer, and ultimately, you have to find your own best methods of discovery. You can probably think of a few (or a lot) right now, but here are some ideas to get you started:
    Identify chord-scale relationships.
    Look for arpeggios, triads, and other intervallic patterns.
    Look for melodic and rhythmic patterns.
    Find all the non-harmonic tones and determine why and how they work.
    Look for symmetry in how an idea is constructed (i.e., parallel intervals, repeated notes and rhythms, etc.).
    Look for connections to other ideas, songs, or licks (i.e., borrowed or even quoted material).
    In the case of improvisation, look for connections to the melody.
    In the case of melodies, look for connections to other parts of the same melody (i.e., melodic development), or even the melodies of other songs.
    Consider how things like tone, dynamics, articulations, and other stylistic nuances influence and change the sound of an idea.
    Notate the idea so you can see it on paper.
    Transpose it to other keys.
    Play it on a different instrument, especially the piano.

How to lift solos (and actually learn something), part 1

June 22, 2016

“Emulate, assimilate, and innovate.” -Clark Terry

WHEN I first started learning solos by ear, I assumed that if I simply played along with the original recordings often enough, I somehow would absorb everything that I needed to know and just magically would improve as a result. Sometime later, I realized that learning solos and playing them over and over again really only takes you so far in the learning process.
The same goes for many other things that we work on in the practice room. Common things like melodic patterns, diminished and whole tone licks, arpeggios, triads, scales, and all other kinds of similar ideas benefit you most if you engage with them at the higher levels of thinking.
What do I mean by that? Well, you know the musician who knows every Charlie Parker solo, but only ever plays Charlie Parker licks? He does that because he’s only ever processed that material at the lower levels of thinking. Compare him with the musician who has taken the time to deconstruct those same licks on a conceptual level and is able to play in the style of Charlie Parker without actually reproducing any of his exact licks.
This idea echoes the philosophy of jazz trumpeter Clark Terry as quoted at the beginning of this article. It’s also inspired by an educational theory called “Bloom’s Taxonomy,” which is far too in-depth for one little chapter, and far more complex than what I’m presenting to you here. However, if the idea of different levels of thinking intrigues you, then I recommend that you check out Bloom’s theory further.
For our purposes, I’ve broken the learning process down into three basic levels of thinking:
1.    Copycat
2.    Locate Your Lightbulb
3.    Adapt and Create
You need to go through all three levels of thinking if you want to learn an idea in a true and complete way. In fact, I would go so far as to say that anyone who learns anything truly and completely always goes through all three levels of thinking whether he’s intentional about it or not.
You can’t proceed to the higher levels until you’ve dealt with the lower levels, but it is possible to deal with the lower levels and then neglect to move on to the higher levels. That’s why it’s so important to understand how the process works. Sometimes you can progress through all three levels very quickly, so that you barely notice them, and other times it takes far longer. Regardless of how much time you spend on each stage, the process is always the same. It applies to learning things like jazz improvisation and composition, and it also applies to learning through-composed repertoire in a way that allows you to interpret it freely and masterfully. Let’s take a look at the first level.

Copycat
This level of thinking is all about learning and memorizing solos, licks, patterns, scales, songs, and ideas, and then reproducing them on your instrument, more or less verbatim. This is where you transcribe a solo and just focus on playing it as much like the original recording as possible. You’re not really doing anything creative at this level, you’re just building a basic level of competence with a new lick, pattern, scale, song, or idea.
Many musicians are reluctant to embrace this process, because they feel that it will hinder their creative development. Similarly, many teachers are reluctant to give their students licks, patterns, and written solos to play in improvisation situations for similar reasons.
“Copycat” sounds negative to people who have a strong creative drive, but it’s an essential part of the learning process. You don’t want to stay at this level, but the more thorough you are with it, the more success and freedom you’ll experience in the next two levels.
Read about the second and third levels of thinking in “How to lift solos (and actually learn something), part 2” and “How to lift solos (and actually learn something), part 3”! These posts are forthcoming and will be posted here on the SeaWind site shortly!

Focus your listening regimen with “Listening Ladders”

May 29, 2016

While I was attending Toronto’s Humber College, I had a private lesson with saxophonist Branford Marsalis while he was in town for a pair of concerts with his iconic quartet. In preparation for the lesson, he told me to transcribe a solo from the album Lester Young Trio. I learned the Lester Young solo from a blues tune called Back to the Land, and I came away from the lesson with ideas and exercises that still influence the way I play and teach to this day.
However, the true lesson for me occurred during one of the evening concerts. The band played an old jazz standard that they had lifted from the radio, and during his solo, Branford played like a carbon copy of Lester Young! He wasn’t playing a solo that he’d transcribed; he was improvising in the style of Lester Young. I was able to discern it because I had been studying Lester’s music, and I understood the point immediately: You have to study your history.
The “Complete” Musician
The reality is that achieving musical mastery involves a lot of aural research and emulation. This will not inhibit your unique musical voice; it will enhance it. What kind of aural research does your chosen musical style demand of you? If such a thing existed, the “complete” musician would be someone who has studied the music of the all the masters in his or her chosen style and beyond.
If you play jazz, have you pored over the music of people like Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Charlie Parker, and Miles Davis (to name only a few)? Have you ventured outside the borders of your chosen style to learn about other genres as well? Mozart said, “There is scarcely a famous master in music whose works I have not frequently and diligently studied” (Kerst 6). Can you say the same?
I’m going to introduce you to a simple strategy that will help you to amp up your listening regimen and enable you to get away from listening merely to satisfy your own musical curiosity. It will open your ears to new ways of playing, and will enable you to see yourself as more than just a single artist standing alone in the vast world of music, hoping somehow to make your contribution. You’ll begin to see yourself as a small but vital part of a great musical lineage, and that will propel you forward with an unparalleled sense of purpose and momentum.
Listening Ladders
Start by writing down the name of someone in your genre whom you admire and consider to be fairly modern. Then, search the web to come up with the name of one older musician who had a profound influence upon that player. Even if you can do this in your head, don’t skip the Internet search, because it might unearth some unexpected information. Once you’ve identified your second name, write it down as well.
Use the same process to identify a major influence for the second musician that you identified, and then write his or her name down, too. You now should have the names of three musicians on your list, each of whom represents a different era in your genre’s history.
Now, create a playlist that includes an equal spread of music from all three names on your list. You’ve just created a listening ladder that covers three major eras in the history of your chosen style. You’ve taken steps to reach back to the younger years of your art form, which is something that many musicians neglect to do.
Here’s an example: Let’s choose John Coltrane as our first musician. An Internet search will reveal that Coltrane’s first major influence was not Charlie Parker, as you might expect, but Johnny Hodges from the Duke Ellington Orchestra. So, he’ll be the second name on our list. If we go one step further and research Johnny Hodges, we’ll find that he studied with the great clarinetist and soprano saxophonist Sidney Bechet. He’ll be our third name.
Now we have three names on our list: John Coltrane, Johnny Hodges, and Sidney Bechet. We also could go the more conventional route by tracing John Coltrane back to Charlie Parker, and Charlie Parker back to Lester Young. There are many options for each player.
In any case, once you have a playlist, listen to it regularly. Learn the music. Transcribe the solos, or even just parts of them. Emulate the styles of the musicians, and do as much of it by ear as you can. That way, you’ll pick up on the stylistic nuances that are unique to each player and the historical period in which he or she lived. Can you hear common threads that connect these musicians across eras? How are they the same? How are they different?
This is not a one-time exercise. You need to make many listening ladders to ensure that you’re absorbing an even spread of music from all across the tradition of your chosen style and beyond, and you always should seek out unfamiliar names to include in your playlists.
Why don’t you create one right now? Come up with three names for your first listening ladder and then leave them in a comment below!

All the best,
Pat MacGibbon

Works Cited:
Kerst, Friedrich, ed. Mozart: the man and the artist revealed in his own words. Dover Publications, 1965.