The Art and Science of Time
Recently, I had a piece played by a symphony orchestra here in Dublin. I've worked with symphony orchestras before, and had them play pieces of mine, and indeed have worked often with classical musicians in other situations. Yet, no matter how many times I do that, I can never get used to the very poor time exhibited by most classical musicians - who are rated in society as being at the pinnacle of their profession. These are players who are trained to the highest level, who read really well, and who have studied and performed for many years. Yet try getting them to do something as basic as playing together with any kind of rhythmic security, and a whole other story unfolds.
Cues are missed, half the players are early, half are late, some rush, some drag. For the jazz composer, the first rehearsal involving classical musicians can be a frightening experience, as what seemed easy and effective on the page, is ruined by a lack of any kind of cohesive rhythmic feel by the players. How can this be? These are highly trained musicians! Well, yes, and no. Before looking at why this is, it's necessary to take a little digression into thinking about what we mean when we use the word 'time' in relation to music or a specific player. And this can be beneficial to us as jazz musicians, as well as explaining the problems of our classical colleagues
In jazz we use the term 'time' as if it is a given that everyone understands what that means. We say this guy has 'great time' or 'I don't like that guy's time feel'. But if asked to explain what we mean, as I once was by a classical musician, it's actually quite hard to do. I think what we mean is this: When we talk about someone's time, we are referring to the way the player's notes relate to the underlying pulse of the music. If a player has a very strong relation to the pulse, we can feel the power of this person's 'time' ‚ it will be strong. In that situation, we can feel ourselves being moved emotionally simply by the way the notes are placed in relation to the pulse.
There can be many different ways of relating to a pulse ‚ in front, on top, behind, with a particular attack ‚ all of these different feels are possible, and many players who relate to the pulse in many differing ways, can be said to have 'really good time'. So if it's not the specific relationship to the pulse that is the common denominator for good time, then what is it? It is the ability to place one's notes in a consistent relationship to the pulse.
I've often noticed that with classical musicians, their relationship to the pulse can vary wildly, even within one measure ‚ and this is not because of a natural ability to be 'free' of the pulse, it is due to a lack of rhythmic training. A word even more widely used than the word 'time', in jazz, and other musics, is the word 'groove'. There is no space here to get into that even broader concept, but I think we can all agree, that in order for a groove to exist, all the players must consistently relate in the same way to the underlying pulse. This is the very thing that classical musicians find most difficult. On one occasion I was stunned to find that a great cellist was unable to play a repeated rhythmic figure in the same way in every measure ‚ in one measure it would be dragged, in another, rushed. Yet this was a player who had performed the Bach Cello Suites to great acclaim How could this be?
It's because rhythmic training, as we understand it in jazz education, is almost non-existent in classical music. Classical music is European in origin, and jazz is an Afro-American music. In all Afro-American music the concept of groove is important ‚ groove can be explained as the creation of good feeling through rhythmic means alone. This concept is unknown in classical music. Hence there is no corresponding word for 'groove' in classical music ‚ no 'groovissimo', or 'con molto funk' or anything like that. A jazz musician can tell another jazz musicians that he or she wants a 'good groove' on a piece and be understood ‚ the same thing would be a mystery to a classical musician.
Classical musicians spend no time learning how to play together off an internal pulse. Their time is either given to them by the conductor, or the leader of the string quartet or whatever. However it is high time that classical musicians learned how to do this piece of basic musicianship. In today's shrinking market, versatility is as much a key to employment for classical musicians, as it is for jazz musicians. Outside the strict classical field, an ability to play with good time would be a great asset to a classical musician. There are many schools who have both classical and jazz departments. In such cases I would see great opportunities for the classical students to study the art of time in the jazz department, using courses devised by that department. This would be tremendously beneficial to them.
But what of we jazz musicians? Are we masters of time? Some of us are for sure, but not enough of us in my opinion. If we look at our courses, how much of it is devoted to the study of the art of time? I'm not talking about a student playing in an ensemble with decent time, I'm talking about a class devoted to developing mastery of time ‚ the ability to play behind, on top, or in front of the beat, at will for example. I know some schools do provide rhythmic analysis classes, but not all.
A thorough rhythm class should, in my opinion, help the student develop the ability to play alone on chorus after chorus on a standard tune, and never drop a beat, to be able to place notes consistently behind, in front or on top . This is particularly true for horn players and singers, who are far too reliant in my opinion on the rhythm section for providing landmarks for them, when they should be as comfortable at providing the time as a bassist or a drummer is. The class should give the students the understanding and knowledge of the fundamentals of various grooves ‚ Swing, Salsa (and all its subsets ‚ Rhumba, Merengue, Son, Santeria rhythms etc), Brazilian, (and all ITS subsets ‚ Partido Alto, Samba, Baion), African, Funk etc. ‚ again, for ALL instruments, not just the rhythm sections.
As an experiment, ask one of the advanced horn players in your school to write out the fundamental rhythm of a Partido Alto, or a Funk Shuffle on a sheet of manuscript. 9 times out of 10 they won't be able to do it ‚ yet can probably play over very complex changes with ease. If a player can play complex harmonic music, yet not be able to jot down the simple rhythms that are the basis of so much of today's music, then in my opinion there is an educational imbalance there. Horn players and vocalists should have the same command and security of rhythm that rhythm section players have.
So what should we aspire to in this study of the possibilities of time? I remember once playing at a clinic with the great drummer Keith Copeland. Someone asked Keith about the idea of playing behind the beat. He demonstrated that by asking me to play a medium walking blues bass line, and he played time with me, and in the first chorus he played behind the beat, in the next on top of the beat, and then finally, in the third, in front of the beat. His ability to shift the focus of where he was placing the beats was amazing and was a demonstration of the various emotional effects of the different movements of rhythm around a pulse. This ability is something we should all aspire to as players ‚ the subtleties of time, the infinite possibilities of nuance that lie within the movement of beats around the pulse, all of these are invaluable tools for the improviser and for the professional musician of any discipline, classical or jazz. We should all be advocates of the Art and Science of Time.
Ronan Guilfoyle, June 2003
(20 Aug 2006)