Category Archives: Practicing Improvisation

All Your Musical Expression Depends Upon This

Whether you’re simply producing a sound, running a scale pattern, playing an etude, or improvising a phrase…none of this is possible without movement.

Now, that might seem obvious, but it has deep implications. You simply can’t have music without movement.

Even in computer-generated music, something has to move in order to produce music. Things have to be coordinated with respect to time so that we as listeners can have a meaningful, musical experience.

But in this post, I’m talking specifically about the movements you make on your particular instrument to produce music.

Without movement, without human movement, there is no musical expression on any type of acoustically generated instrument. You move air, you create friction on strings, you strike things…

And the quality of your musical expression is deeply conditioned by the quality of the movement you use to play your instrument.

Musicians are movers. To be a skillful musician, you must also be a skillful mover. Every single technical or pedagogic problem a musician is having is, by design, a problem with movement.

And I’m not just talking about the quality of the movement of the specific bodily parts that seem to be most involved in playing your instrument. I’m not talking only about skilled fingers, or hands, or feet, or facial muscles, per se. (Though these things are clearly important!)

No, I’m talking about something much broader: the coordination of your entire self.

I use that word, “self”, very carefully here. Because from a functional, neurophysiologic point of view, you are much more than a mass of flesh and bone playing an instrument. You are a whole, interdependently integrated organism, whose attention, (and intentions!) impact the quality of both your specific skill, and your overall coordination.

Movement is something that falls under an even larger umbrella called reaction. How you move in space, how you maintain posture and balance, how you hear/listen, how you use your time, are all under this umbrella.

As you play your instrument, you are constantly reacting to a plethora of stimuli, both internal and external (what you hear, imagine, feel, want, sense, etc.) How you react to all this stimuli is manifested through your movement.

And the quality of those movements can either support, or interfere with, your musical expression.

So pay gentle attention to how you move, to how you react moment to moment as you practice and perform on your instrument.

What is the overall quality of your movement? How would you describe it? Is it fluid, mobile, grounded, light and efficient? Do you have a dynamic relationship to the ground? Are you simultaneously free, and stable?

If you answered “no” to any of these questions, keep in mind that you can change. You have the capacity to choose more mindfully efficient ways to move.

My work as an Alexander Technique teacher is designed at helping musicians discover and restore the quality of movement that is most helpful to optimal musical performance. It is something that I not only teach, but that I also apply to my own musical practice every day. It enables me to discover ever more efficient movement possibilities when playing saxophone. It steers me toward clarity as I express myself musically.

So if you’d like to play your instrument with greater ease, expression and control, consider the overall quality of your movement. Give it top priority. Allow your neck and shoulders to move freely, let the ground support you, let your ribs move easily as you breathe, and aim at moving with a light, upward, and expansive quality.

Think “balance and mobility” rather than “position and posture”. Speak to yourself kindly. Take your time. Explore. Cultivate curiosity. Believe that there is always more ease available to you. (Because there is!) Move well, play even better. Enjoy!

New Jazz Etude: Implied 5/4 Over Minor to Major Turnbacks in 4/4

Here’s a line that is inspired by Stan Getz’ classic solo on Stella By Starlight (from the album, Stan Getz Plays, where he so masterfully uses polymeter to create an interesting rhythmic tension in the final cadences of the song form on the first chorus). The harmonic structure I’ve used here is a minor to major turnback (i.e., minor key ii-V7s that “turn back” and finally resolve to major), which also happens to be a somewhat condensed version of the last eight measures of Stella By Starlight. Take a look at the example above. If you analyze the note choices I’ve made on each chord, there is nothing harmonically complex or “exotic”. In fact, most of the melodic content is more or less outlining the chords themselves.

But what gives this line its particular surprise is how I’ve used rhythm and meter in constructing it. The first motif is a 5/4 pattern, subdivided into 3/4 and 2/4 (the 3/4 being the first six eighth notes; the 2/4 being the quarter note and the two eighth notes that follow it). The final two eighth notes of this motif (A and Ab) act as “approach notes”, or passing tones, that lead to the “G” in the second beat of the second measure, thus starting a similar melodic pattern (with some variation) of the original motif, but modulated down a whole step with respect to the new chord (E half dim7). The original rhythmic pattern (six eighth notes followed by a quarter note and two eighth notes) is then stated again, but this time displaced by one beat (hence, the 5/4 over 4/4).

You’ll notice that the quarter note has been rhythmically displaced, moving from beat four in the first measure to beat one of the third measure. On the third beat of the third measure the rhythmic pattern varies again, but still implies a 5/4 organization, with the B natural acting as the fifth beat of the 5/4 pattern. So the entire pattern fits into 15 beats, giving the impression of the time turning around significantly against the 16 beats of the four-bar harmonic form. Spelling out the C maj7 gives the entire melodic line a strong sense of release against the previous harmonic and rhythmic tension. If you practice this over a backing track you’ll most clearly hear the harmonic/rhythmic tension, but even practicing it with a metronome clicking on beats two and four, you’ll still get the feeling of the cadences being displaced against the 4/4 form.

If you would like to explore these concepts further, please consider my e-books, Essential Polymeter Studies in 4/4 for the Improvising Musician, and ii-V7-I: 40 Creative Concepts for the Modern Improviser. For a free, downloadable pdf of this etude, click the link below:

5/4 Implied Over Minor to Major Turnbacks in 4/4-pdf

Time and Rhythm: Discovering the Magic Between the Beats

“Many people think that how they commit to the metronomic beat is the only game in town. But in bebop, the game in between this beat and the next one is really the main game.”

-Charles McPherson

“The metronome is not my sense of time. My sense of time lies between the metronome clicks.”

-Bill Plake

Well, I have at least one thing in common with alto saxophone great Charles McPherson. We both agree about our relationship to time (and how we perceive it).

Many musicians who seek my help in improving their sense of time and rhythm tend to have this more “passive” approach to the beat, as described above. This is, in part, because they view playing with “good” time as some kind of burden, as something they are obligated  to do in a rather precise and inflexible manner.

But playing with “good” time is not a burden. It is a liberator,  making your music more vivid, along with optimizing your skill and coordination.

And for you to play with “good” time, you need to be flexible and dynamic in two specific ways:

First, you need to be flexible and responsive to the time/rhythm/feel nuances of the other musicians with whom you’re playing.

Second, you need to have a dynamic rhythmic imagination.

It is this “dynamic rhythmic imagination” that I wish to address here.

No matter what kind of music you’re playing, “between the beats” is where all the possibilities lie. If you’re playing “interpretive” music, lets’ say, Bach, for example, it is your imagination of the “unevenness” (the emphasis and de-emphasis) of each of the eighth notes in a particular phrase that give it a unique expressive quality.

In other words, it is how you “imagine” the eighth notes relative to the beat  that puts your personal stamp on the music.

If you’re an improvising musician, on the other hand, it’s not just how  you imagine the eighth notes relative to the beat, but also what  you imagine rhythmically.

By “what”, I’m talking about the complexity and richness of your rhythmic expression. I’m talking about more than just continuous eighth (or sixteenth) notes.

Syncopation, polyrhythm, metric modulation, polymeter…even silence…all of this can be part of your rhythmic imagination. The “game in between this beat and the next one”, as Charles McPherson says.

And for sure, as an improvising musician, the “how” of how you play your eighth notes, sixteenths, etc., relative to the beat, is a vital component of your expression. (I think of this as a part of your “time feel”.)

But the bottom line is that none of this happens without consciously strategic and constructive work. In the simplest sense, that means working on two specific skills:

  1. Your sense of pulse (your ability to imagine and accurately predict) the beat (or “clicks” on the metronome).
  2. Your ability to imagine and move with an ever-expanding vocabulary of rhythmic expression relative to that beat.

The key word here is imagination.  When you’re practicing, that might mean using a minimal amount of metronome clicks relative to the rhythm being explored.

So for example, if you’re working on feeling eighth-note septuplets (seven notes played within two beats), it would make little sense to set the metronome clicking on each eighth note of the septuplet. Doing so might make your eighth notes sound “more even and precise”, but will do nothing for your rhythmic imagination. Ultimately, it is your carefully cultivated “rhythmic imagination” that will make your rhythms most precise, whether your playing by yourself or with others.

It would be more beneficial to set the metronome click in three ways. From easier to more challenging, these are:

  1. One click per each septuplet.
  2. Two clicks per each septuplet. (Believe it or not, you’ll most likely find this to be a bit more tricky.)
  3. One click per measure. (So, in 4/4 that would be one click for every 14 notes)

Once you’re able to do all this fairly readily, next would be to displace the click of the metronome relative to the septuplets, perhaps having it click beat two of each measure (or if you’re really up for a challenge, having it click on the “and” of beats one and three!)

Working on rhythms with this kind of intention and precision yields remarkable results, whether you’re an interpretive or improvising musician. The music “between the beats” comes alive inside of you with sometimes startling energy!

I’ve composed an e-book filled with exercises to help you enrich your rhythmic imagination, as well as to improve your ability to predict  the beats. Working daily in this way will help you build measureable skills that apply to whichever kind of music you play.

In any case, I encourage you embrace Maestro McPherson’s assertion, and discover the magic between the beats. Here’s a link to Ethan Iverson’s excellent interview with Charles McPherson. Enjoy!

The Power of the Pause

Freedom is the capacity to pause in the face of stimuli from many directions at once and, in this pause, to throw one’s weight (put one’s intentions) toward ‘this’ response rather than ‘that’ one.

-Rollo May, existential psychologist, from his book ‘Freedom and Destiny’

One thing that virtually every musician has to do in order to improve is to change what they are currently doing. This might mean changing your practice regime, changing your understanding of your instrument and pedagogy, changing your perception of sound, changing your quality of attention, etc.

It might also mean that you have to change the postural and movement habits you bring to playing your instrument.

Habits of breathing, standing and/or sitting, how you use your arms and hands, how you balance (or not), how you use your other senses, etc. It’s entirely possible (and even highly likely) that you are sometimes misdirecting your efforts in these areas as you play.

The Alexander Technique is a practical method of helping you to change your postural and movement habits for the better. And one of the most essential tools of the Technique is known as “conscious inhibition” (most students and teachers of the Alexander Technique just refer to it as “inhibition”).

In the simplest sense, inhibition is your ability to consciously prevent yourself from reacting in an habitual, unwanted way. Unwanted tension in your neck. Unwanted rushing of the tempo. Unwanted stiffening in your shoulders, Unwanted gasping as you breathe, etc.

By keeping the unwanted things “in check”, you are free to pursue what you do  want in a way that is more in accordance to your human design. You increase your odds for success.

From a neurobiological point of view, all skilled motor activity requires a balance between “volition” (muscles going into the desired, or helpful action) and inhibition (muscles refraining from undesired, or unhelpful action). Most inhibition in skilled activities takes place naturally and unconsciously (as it should).

But sometimes you need to use inhibition in a more constructively conscious  way in order to improve things.

Unfortunately, there can sometimes be a misconception about using inhibition consciously. To many people, conscious inhibition means “trying” to stop something from happening. It is exactly this “trying” part that can too often create a whole other set of problems when setting out to change movement and postural habits.

“Trying” sometimes means that you are struggling to stop yourself from doing what you habitually do. As if you have little or no control over it. Here’s something F.M. Alexander (the founder of the Alexander Technique) said about it:

When you are asked not to do something, instead of making the decision not to do it, you try to prevent yourself from doing it. But this only means that you decide to do it, and then use muscle tension to prevent yourself from doing it.

But that’s not at all the way inhibition is used in the Alexander Technique. Rather than “trying to stop” something, you learn to simply decide not to do it.

I know, I know…more easily said than done, especially when you have a deeply ingrained habit attached to playing your instrument. But still absolutely doable. That’s the skill you develop by studying and applying the Technique.

The first step in learning to use inhibition in a constructive way, is to embrace the pause.

It is within this brief instant before taking action that you can choose to redirect your attention and clarify your intention and effort. In that moment you come face to face with your habitual reaction, and can give yourself a chance to say “no” to it.

You can decide  not to do what you habitually do. And that’s where the magic lies.

Because if you decide not to react habitually you leave yourself free to find other ways to react. You move from habit  into the realm of choice.

It is the discovery, exploration and embracing of the pause that has given me tremendously powerful tools in managing (which I do quite well!) the focal dystonia in my left hand.

Without using the pause as tool for change, I wouldn’t be able to play saxophone at all any more with any kind of reasonable skill and control. Nowadays, I’m playing better than I ever have, thanks to the power of pausing and redirecting my attention. That simple.

But I gained so much more from the using the pause than improving the functioning of my left hand. Using the pause has helped me to practice everything I practice in a much more constructive, efficient and clearly intentional way.

And as an improvising musician, learning that I can pause, that don’t have to fill every second of my solos with sound, is liberating, and (at the risk of sounding dramatic) has been life changing for me.

I listen at a much deeper level when I play with others than I ever have before. I play with greater empathy, confidence, authenticity, passion, creativity and satisfaction.

All thanks to becoming more and more skilled at pausing.

And to be clear, “pausing” is not the same as “hesitating”. Pausing invites calm, reassured choice, where hesitation invites conflict, misdirected effort and a lack of confidence and clarity.

I use the pause countless times every day that I practice, and I bring it with me to rehearsals and to the bandstand.

When I’m practicing, sometimes I pause between iterations of something challenging that I’m practicing. Just a split second to stop and redirect my efforts makes all the difference.

And even in the middle of a performance, the “imagination” of the pause is always there, reminding me that I have more choice than I might have perviously thought.

So I encourage you to explore the pause. Before jumping right in to “fix” what you didn’t like about what you just played in your practice session (by starting over with the same misdirected effort that led to your dissatisfaction), give yourself a chance to stop, find ease and balance in your body, clarify what it is you want and don’t want, and begin again.

As I’ve said in some of my other blog articles, you’ll never waste time when you give yourself a chance to stop and consciously redirect your efforts. Embrace the quiet power of choosing to pause. Respond rather than react, and reclaim your freedom.

New Jazz Etude: Sus Chord Combined with Altered Melodic Shape

Here’s another easy way to combine the more “modern” sounding qualities of 4ths and 5ths with a hint of classic bebop language over ii-V7-I. Take a look at the example above.

I essentially use only two different tonal elements for the entire line. In the first measure, I start with a suspended chord shape: E, G, D, A (which could be labeled either/both D Sus9, or A Sus7). I continue with an altered-note melodic shape (G, Bb, Ab, F) in anticipation of the G7 chord. In the next measure, I return to the original suspended chord shape in a different inversion from the first measure. I then use the exact same four-note altered note shape from measure one, but place it an octave higher. The notes of this shape, relative to G7, are: 1 (G), +9 (Bb, functioning enharmonically as A#), -9 (Ab), 7 (F). It seems to imply a diminished scale quality, but could be interpreted many ways relative to other diatonic scales that fit as altered substitutions over G7 (e.g., Ab melodic minor, F melodic minor, etc.)

The line then returns (3rd measure) to a variation/inversion of the original four-note suspended shape, and continues with these four notes until the end. As you can see, both four-note pitch sets (the Sus chords and the altered notes) share a common note, the “G”. The two colors combined (Sus and altered) make for an interesting contrast that works well over the chords. Dissonances that fall well within the bebop realm, but the suspended shape adds an interesting contrasting element. If you’d like to explore more creative options over ii-V7-I cycles, please consider my e-book, ii-V7-I: 40 Creative Concepts for the Modern Improviser. For a free, downloadable pdf of this etude, click the link below:

Sus Chord Combined with Altered Melodic Shape-pdf