The Most Important Book I’ve Ever Read About the Process of Improvisation

In its purest, most essential form, musical improvisation is not incumbent upon chords, scales, specific styles, or forms. (This includes jazz.) These are simply some of the materials from which music is made.

The thing that all genres of improvisation have in common, the thing that all improvising musicians have in common, is the spontaneous expression of the self through music.

As someone who teaches, coaches and writes about the skills of improvisation, I’ll say that virtually all of the people who seek my help are musicians playing primarily (if not exclusively) in the jazz tradition. Many of these musicians are surprised when I start talking about the importance of “open improvisation”.

Open improvisation, or “free” improvisation as it’s sometimes called, in the simplest sense, is improvisation with no preconceived form over which to improvise (e.g., no chord changes, bar forms etc.). Sometimes even no preconceived anything. Just the muse of the improviser, as expressed through current musical skills and life experiences. This is done either in conjunction/connection with the other musicians involved in the process, or in a singular, “unaccompanied” expression.

And this is precisely what happens whenever we think/speak to ourselves, as well as when we converse with others. It is a natural and beautiful human phenomenon. We are, all of us, natural born improvisers.

I practice open improvisation every day (in addition to other more specific improvisational skills and styles), and I recommend it to all my jazz musician clients.

This daily discipline (a meditation, really) will open up your improvisational imagination in unexpected ways. It will help you express yourself more readily, and more authentically. You will find delight in discovering and expressing new things from within yourself every time you play. If you are exclusively a jazz musician (improvising over harmonic forms), this kind of daily practice will simply make you better at what you do.

Yet the question for somebody new to approaching open improvisation always seems to be: “Okay, but where do I start with this, and how do practice it and ‘progress’ with it?”

Being Music: The Art of Open Improvisation, by Mark Miller with Art Lande is the first book I’ve encountered that clearly, comprehensively and practically, answers that question. It fills a huge void in the vast amounts of books available out there on improvisational pedagogy.

Mark Miller is a wonderfully gifted instrumentalist and composer, performing on saxophone, flutes, bass clarinet, shakuhachi (the Japanese bamboo flute) and EWI. A Grammy nominated artist, he has has performed with a wide array of improvising musicians from a large variety of genres.

In addition to his performing career, Mr. Miller also serves as Professor of Music at Naropa University’s School of the Arts. He is also a student and practitioner of Zen meditation, and this is seamlessly interwoven into his approach to improvisation and into his teaching. In particular, the practice of “non-doing” (allowing things to unfold on their own), of being fully present and available, and playing music from a place of love, curiosity and kindness stood out in my mind as I read Being Music.

The book is written in conjunction with another remarkable improvising musician, pianist, composer and educator, Art Lande. I first became aware of Art Lande from the astoundingly beautiful (and highly critically acclaimed) recordings he made for ECM records.

To this day, Miller and Lande perform in an on ongoing musical duo with remarkable depth and empathy. They are able to create spontaneous “compositions” with astonishing beauty, clarity, surprise, and with a rare degree of simpatico.

Both of these maestros speak so lovingly and lucidly about both the aesthetic and the practical considerations for making beautiful, cogent spontaneous music. Their rapport is as evident in their dialogue from the book, as it is in their collective performances.

Here is a quote from the author that sums up the essence of the book:

“Improvisation is a practice of musical exploration and discovery. What we explore is our lived experience and what we discover we share with our audience. As improvisers, our creative resources include sense perception, imagination, somatic presence, and the vitality of emotional expression. In collaboration we develop relationships that serve the music and balance the priorities of self and others in the ensemble. Being Music describes the craft of improvisation as ‘spontaneous composition’ including an awareness of form, compositional focus, theme and development, stillness and creative flow.”

As an Alexander Technique teacher, one of the things I most appreciate is Mark Miller’s “holistic” approach to the improvisational process. For example, he talks about how what we do with, and what we perceive, through our bodies (our “sense perception”) is a fundamental part of our experience and our expression (just as it is a fundamental part of our human experience).

Another thing I love is how the materials of music (form, meter, pitch, harmony, theme, etc.) can fit into to open improvisation. To me, form is always there, whether we are conscious of it or not.

And in addition to these things , some of the perhaps “less” musically tangible things, like mood, the implied colors of sound, story telling, humor, human connection and more, are lovingly and lucidly presented.

There were so many “Yes!” moments, and “Aha!” moments for me when I read this book. As a practice coach, one of my favorites is about the role of practicing specific musical skills as they relate to improvising:

“Good musicianship allows us to transform our being into music without any part of us getting lost in translation. Practicing is a lifelong process of removing obstacles to honest music making–playing what you hear and hearing what you play.”

One of the best things about this book is how ultimately practical it is. Though it lays a solid esthetic and philosophical ground for both the process of improvisation in general, and open Improvisation in particular, it is chock full of practical advice and specific ways to practice and explore to deepen experience and skill in this art form.

It is a “how to” book on open improvisation (and so much more). Mr. Miller offers many ingenious exercises and explorations, each of them presented in such a way as to be user friendly, enjoyable, methodical and progressive. They will help you to clearly and confidently build your skills. Very “step by step”. I love that!

Finally, this is a beautifully written book. Mr. Miller’s prose is quite lovely. Like his work as an improvising musician, his writing is eloquent, thoughtful, open-hearted, and at times, poetic and even vulnerable. The dialogues between Miller and Lande are pure gold, overflowing with wisdom and insight. Deep, important questions are asked and explored in abundance.

Being Music: The Art of Open Improvisation, by Mark Miller with Art Lande is a “must read” for any serious student of improvisation, of any ability or genre. It’s a book I’ll read again and again from time to time. Like a great musical recording, I’m sure I’ll continue to have those “Yes!” and “Aha!” moments as I do so. Highly recommended.

Here’s a link to purchase the book: Being Music: The Art of Open Improvisation.

New Jazz Etude-Diminished Scale Diatonic Triad Pairs Over Dom 7

This etude functions as a simplified “encyclopedia” for demonstrating how the diminished scale can be organized into major and minor triad pairs, as well as to show you how these pairs fit over their respective dominant chords.

The aim here is to not only understand how these triads fit over the dominant 7th chords, but also to help you “hear” (aurally imagine) how they sound in contrast/relationship to the dominant chord. If you’re fairly new to the diminished scale, this will also demonstrate the harmonic relationship between the four dominant 7th chords that share the same diminished scale.

Take a look at the example above. In the first two measures I have a C7 chord. In the first measure is the chord itself, inverted from the 3rd. In the second measure I apply the diminished scale organized into two triad pairs extracted from the scale: Eb minor and A major. The 3rd and 4th measures have an Eb7 in root position followed by A minor and Eb major triads.

Measures 5 and 6 have an F#7 chord inverted from the 7th followed by F# minor and C minor triads. Measures 7 and 8 have an A7 chord inverted from the 5th followed by A minor and F# major triads.

As you can see, each of the dominant 7ths start on a different degree of the chord.

All four of these dominant 7th chords are related to the same diminished scale: C, Db/C#, Eb, E natural, F#/Gb, G natural, A, A#/Bb. Hence, all the triad pairs are related to each of these dominant chords. I put this eight measure exercise in all 12 keys as a playable reference. As you practice it you’ll find lots of patterns and relationships between triads pairs and dominant chords, and hear how they sound in various inversions.

If you’d like to explore this concept in depth, learning to apply these triad pairs as they move from dominant to tonic, please consider my ebook, Diminished Scale Diatonic Triad Pairs. To get a free pdf copy of this etude, click the link below:

The First Three Steps You Can Take For Resolving Chronic Pain And Injury

close up photo of a man having a neck pain
Photo by Kindel Media on Pexels.com

After recently reading some rather disheartening discussions on various social media platforms, where professional musicians were discussing the “inevitability” of chronic pain and injuries, I thought I’d offer some (hopefully) helpful thoughts.

As a certified Alexander Technique teacher and musical practice coach, I have a good amount of experience helping musicians effectively address such issues. I’d like to offer up what I think are the three most important steps you can take if you’re struggling with chronic pain associated with playing your instrument.

Step One: Believe that you can improve.

This is one of the most commonly counterproductive assumptions many musicians I encounter have about discomfort, chronic pain and chronic injuries associate with making music.

Chronic pain conditions associated with a repetitive activity like playing a musical instrument are typically caused because of the interplay between two things:

Overuse, and misuse.

You can dramatically improve upon both of these variables. It’s a matter of choice. And that choice starts with belief. If you believe you can’t improve upon these things, then you’re right. But only because your disbelief stops you from taking action.

So start by believing things can get better. (Because they most certainly can!)

Step Two: Do some research.

If you’re at any stage of chronic pain or discomfort, take some time to research and understand the science behind your struggle. Try to find simple, but relevant information on the physiological framework that defines your condition.

This starts with getting a medical diagnosis from your primary care physician. Your condition might not be one that can be effectively addressed from a medical point of view, but it is always a good place to start. Even if you can’t get a definitive diagnosis for your condition, you should at least make sure that it’s not because of a measurably pathological element (e.g. neurological, metabolic, etc.) that truly needs immediate medical attention.

From there, you can do some extra research on your own.

For example, if it appears you might have the beginning of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, first understand (from an anatomical and physiological perspective) what the carpal tunnel actually is, and what you might be doing in your movements to cause the inflammation that leads to the Syndrome.

The better you understand the “mechanical principle” of what is causing the dysfunction, the better equipped you are to choice the best course of action to improve.

And part of that course of action involves finding the appropriate professional help, if needed. So take time to understand the “scope of practice” that various practitioners adhere to, and decide which practitioner(s) might be able to help.

There are many professional resources these days to effectively address even the most stubborn chronic pain issues. Skilled movement experts (like Alexander Technique, and other somatic education teachers, physical therapists, etc.) and skilled manual therapists (like neuromuscular massage therapists, chiropractors, etc.) are plentiful.

Then it’s time to do some research to find the specific individual(s) best suited to help you. Look for recommendations from others. Read reviews. Ask questions.

Also, take some time to research the potential “environmental” factors (e.g., equipment, lighting, chairs, stands, props/supports, etc.) that can impact your condition.

Three: Take action

Once you’ve done your research, it’s time to go into action. Get an initial consultation with the appropriate professional(s). Make the specific environmental changes you’ve researched that seem to be most likely to impact you in a positive way.

After you’ve taken some action, make a conscious decision to reassess your choices. Give things a reasonable time to make an impact (sometimes changing these things takes a fair amount of time and patience), but be willing to recognize when something clearly isn’t working.

And if it isn’t working, do some more research. Ask more questions. Find another way.

Pain can be a slippery slope, in that the experience of pain is impacted by many variables. And there certainly are specific chronic conditions that seem to be impervious to any kind of help.

But most chronic pain and injury is most definitely improvable. Often significantly so.

Just remember the most important step in this process (step one). Believe that things can get better…

New E-Book: Dominant Chord Five-Note Melodic Shapes

I’m pleased to announce that my latest e-book, Dominant Chord Five-Note Melodic Shapes, is now available for purchase and immediate download.

By extracting both the natural and altered degrees of a dominant chord, and organizing them into five-note melodic patterns (“shapes”), you’ll explore and discover lots of new material to help you deepen your understanding of applied jazz harmony, while at the same time cultivating your own personal “language” as an improviser.

So take a look at the landing page on my blog, which has a pdf sample of some of the notated exercises, as well as a pdf copy of the written introduction of the book, which further explains the concept, the format, the benefits, and the practice guidelines for implementing the work.

And as always, let me know what you think! Thanks!

Ask Yourself “This Question” Instead Of “That Question” For Optimal Satisfaction

selective focus photography of piano keys
Photo by Steve Johnson on Pexels.com

“A man’s a genius just for looking like himself.”

-Thelonious Monk

When I first fell in love with the idea of playing music, it was because I wanted to play jazz. And the thing that impressed me the most about my favorite jazz musicians was how authentically they expressed themselves. It was like you could “see” who they were as human beings simply by listening to the sounds they were making. Often you knew just by they way they played a single note.

I wanted that magic more than anything I’d ever wanted before in my young life. I wanted to be able to let something deep inside me come out to show the world who I was, the way my jazz heroes did.

So I began serious study of the flute and the saxophone. I practiced diligently and thoughtfully, really putting in the time and effort.

But it wasn’t long into my studies when my motivation began to transform. It shifted from the idealized notion of “what I wanted to do”, to whether or not what I was doing was “good” or “bad”, “right” or “wrong”, etc.

Of course this is normal, and it made sense at the time. I really wanted to learn to express myself, and there must be a single, correct way to do so (or so my young mind thought).

The up side of this shift was that I became aware of all the things I had to address in order to be able to develop the skills I needed to express myself.

But as the years passed, some unintended consequences came along with this emphasis on looking for what was good or bad, or right or wrong, in my playing. In short, I’d lost touch with that original, beautiful motivation for why I wanted to play in the first place.

I’d lost touch with the magic.

There was not a single thing that I did as musician that felt exclusive (or deeply connected) to me. My sound was pleasant and full, my technique solid, I could improvise reasonably skillfully in a variety of styles.

But there was nothing in what I played that felt like it was that same “me” that wanted to play music in the first place those years before.

It was a strangely unsatisfying feeling. On the one hand I was playing “pretty well”, getting gigs and playing in a variety of ensembles. On the other hand, I didn’t really like (or dislike, for that matter) much of what I played.

Then something shifted in my attitude. It began as I pondered a rather odd, hypothetical question that came to mind one rainy afternoon as I sat in my practice room:

“How would my playing change from this point onward if I knew nobody but ‘me’ would ever hear ‘me’ again?”

I spent a long time with this question, meditating on it daily for many weeks. I began to journal quite meticulously about my thoughts. Great details began to emerge in my journaling about my conception of sound, about aesthetics in improvisation (especially phrasing, and silence), about expanded sonic possibilities and techniques on saxophone, and more.

My imagination came to life! I became excited about how I was pondering this question, and was greatly inspired to practice in a completely new way.

To this day, I’m profoundly grateful for asking that question. Because that is the question I needed to ask in order to bring myself back to my original motivation to play music, those years ago. To bring myself back to the magic.

And it has been that “original motivation” that keeps me so endlessly engaged in my process as a musician, and in my growth as a human being.

In essence, what happened was a change in a basic question about assessing myself and my needs as a musician.

Instead of asking myself the question,

“Is this good?” (or “bad”, as the case may be), about anything that had to do with my playing, musical conception, etc.,

I began to ask myself instead,

“Is this what I want?”

Now, you might be thinking that these are the same thing. But the difference in how you might proceed, depending on which of these questions you ask yourself, can be huge.

And for sure there is overlap. A rich, flexible and resonant sound is a “good” thing, and it can also be “something I want”.

But when I go to “what I want” as a guideline, I turn to an intrinsic set of values to guide me toward a rich, flexible and resonant sound. I start thinking and imagining things more specifically, with great attention to detail.

A “rich, flexible and resonant” sound manifests itself in an enormous variety of colors and voices. And when it is my voice, my imagination…well, it just becomes clear and deeply satisfying to experience and to express.

You see, one of the potential drawbacks of the “good/bad” question is that it too typically comes from an extrinsic set of values, from things outside of the imagination and desire of the artist.

In my experience teaching the Alexander Technique to young, emerging performing artists (of a variety of disciplines), this assessment of “good” can sometimes come with a lack of clarity and details.

“I just recognize ‘good’ when I hear it”, is not a particularly constructive conception. Aimless and meandering, at best.

And the assessment of “bad” with these same artists is also too often lacking in useful information and details.

When I can help them to change the inquiry from “good/bad” to “want/don’t want”, they are able to seamlessly merge good technical qualities with authentic self expression. It’s win/win.

So give yourself a chance to think about these two questions. Explore them in the practice room with love and genuine curiosity. Keep them in mind when you’re listening to music you really love, too.

Allow yourself, as Thelonious Monk said, to “look like yourself”. This beautiful world we live in needs your voice.