It's difficult for me to summarize my conceptual approach neatly. My own music has compositional and improvisational elements to it, but I'm also a teacher and a general player and have to be versatile enough to explain or play a variety of things.
If I were to summarize my approach, it would be something like this:
- When performing music*, use the simplest theory necessary to play the music to the best of your ability.
*key word is "performing"
I should quickly say that I'm using the word "theory" very broadly here. Theory, in its most general sense, just means a connection between two or more ideas. We usually mean "classical or jazz-based conservatory common practice" when we say music theory, but it's even more elementary than that. Even the idea that a certain chord shape will sound the same every time you play it, or that a certain chord shape is commonly called "G" or "C"... that's all theory. It'd be virtually impossible to operate without some sort of musical theory.
Different musical styles require different levels of musical competency. If all you want to do is write simple acoustic songs and play in coffee-shops, an thorough understanding of set theory would be like buying a bulldozer to build a sandcastle. But if you wanted to play like Ken Vandermark, an understanding of set theory is necessary.
So my conceptual approach is very different when I play a traditional blues tune vs. when I play a jazz standard vs. when I play an avant-garde jazz piece. It would be impossible for there not to be crossover between different approaches, that's natural and inevitable. But would I consciously try to play an old-timey tune like "I'll Fly Away" with the same mindset that I would play "Inner Urge"? No way, unless I want to experience music paralysis. Which then brings me to...
- Improvisation has to be an intuitive process
Essentially, the more I consciously think about improvisation, the worse I play. If I'm thinking about all the neat little tricks I can play or about how I have to play this cool lick, at best it'll sound forced and unnatural, at worst it'll ruin the whole improvisation.
I'm not a particularly clever or talented musician in the grand scheme of things, but one of my better moments was when I figured out that I could use a program like Audacity, edit a track so that only an artist's solo remained, put it on my MP3 player and listen to it on loop. It could work for anyone, but I specifically did it with a select group of jazz artists: Lester Young, Charlie Christian, Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, Ben Webster, Django, Bud Powell, Roy Eldridge, Fats Navarro, Johnny Hodges, etc. Not only are their solos easier to digest because they recorded in the days of 78s and their solos are short and sweet, but together they form a very thorough ur-sprache of jazz. I still listen to the playlists I made, and the intensive immersion in their music did wonders for my playing.
I really do think that's what it takes. If you read enough interviews of great musicians, you see the story of the young player who listens to a certain influence so much that they "wear out the grooves on the record." Thankfully with CDs and MP3s, that's no longer an issue, but the sentiment remains the same. If you listen to Lester Young's solo on "Lady Be Good" a hundred times, some part of it is going to sink into your subconscious. The same process could be applied to any kind of music... concentrated listening to BB King or Tony Rice solos are only going to help.
- Practice is a combination of playing actual music and exploration
Earlier in my playing career, I focused a lot on exercises. I wouldn't say it was a complete waste of time, but now my focus is very different. I'll use the occasional exercise to warm up, but I spend far more time transcribing solos and learning new tunes.
Playing a Coltrane solo or a Bach violin partita provides as much of a technical challenge as any exercise. If need be, I can make exercises based on a particular passage from a piece of music that I'm working on. But the exercises are supplementary to the music, not the other way around.
Practicing is also a time to explore and push my boundaries. It's a time where I can try things I would never try at a gig or performance. For example, I really like working with Barry Harris' harmonic concept. Some of it is much too cumbersome to work out in performance... I'm not going to think of a Maj7 chord as either a "Maj6th with a borrowed diminished note." But it's very handy as a generative system and for finding interesting new voicings and movements in certain situations.
There are lots of other areas I like to explore: counterpoint (sorely underlooked at on guitar... Jimmy Wyble's stuff is only the beginning!), improvisational approaches from Ornette Coleman/Cecil Taylor/Derek Bailey, harmonic stuff from the Van Eps/Ted Greene branch of guitar playing, pre-war blues and folk repertoire...
... but that's largely personal and probably not as helpful or applicable to other people.
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