On a recent, rainy Saturday night a quartet of young jazz musicians played a concert in our living room to an absolutely packed house - there wasn't an empty chair left in our house. The musicians are Jerusalemites who have known each other since high school and been playing with each other for something like twelve years. They call themselves "Friendy," and I hope they'll have a bright and successful future together. The pianist is Noam Borns, the bassist is Daniel Ashkenazi, the drummer is Shai Yuval, and the tenor sax player is Zohar Mokadi Amar. They played all original music of their own. Everyone loved it. At the end, after they were officially finished playing, they were soaring and couldn't stop. I asked Zohar to try my tenor, and he confirmed what I thought: it's a good instrument. Then they invited me to play a blues, "Tenor Madness," with them. What a kick to play with such great musicians! I held my own, almost, and that inspired me and gave me confidence.
On Friday mornings I've been going to a class in blues and jazz given by Yaki Levi, a great drummer and pianist, at the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance. Yaki is inspiring. Last week we were playing solos of "Freedom Jazz Dance," a quirky tune by Eddie Harris that is all on a single chord, so you don't have to think about changes when you play. At a certain point in my solo (we go around the room, and everyone gets a chance to play), I was inspired. That's the only way I can put it. Suddenly I was playing the way I always wished I could play, finding notes that I hadn't thought of and that didn't come automatically in a pattern that I always fall into.
A few days before that, my flute teacher told me that he couldn't teach me any longer, and I realized that it was probably a good time to strike out on my own. I'm never going to be a fine classical flautist, and I don't even want to be a fine classical flautist. I want to have fun playing whatever instrument I play and to be free and creative if possible.
For years I played standards with a pianist and improvised, but it didn't work, partly because the pianist never learned how to accompany and support soloists - that bored him. But also because I find it very difficult to memorize songs, to learn them by ear, to hear and remember the changes. Up to now I've been too lazy to work on what didn't come relatively easily. But in the past week I decided to learn the changes for "All the Things You Are" once and for all, slowly and patiently. I'm going to give that what it takes, and once I can do that fluently, I'll try to improvise on those chords. If I can muster the patience to get that song down, maybe it will be easier for me to learn other songs.
If I had begun doing this kind of music work when I was a teenager, I wouldn't have to struggle now, when my memory isn't as retentive as it was.
On Friday mornings I've been going to a class in blues and jazz given by Yaki Levi, a great drummer and pianist, at the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance. Yaki is inspiring. Last week we were playing solos of "Freedom Jazz Dance," a quirky tune by Eddie Harris that is all on a single chord, so you don't have to think about changes when you play. At a certain point in my solo (we go around the room, and everyone gets a chance to play), I was inspired. That's the only way I can put it. Suddenly I was playing the way I always wished I could play, finding notes that I hadn't thought of and that didn't come automatically in a pattern that I always fall into.
A few days before that, my flute teacher told me that he couldn't teach me any longer, and I realized that it was probably a good time to strike out on my own. I'm never going to be a fine classical flautist, and I don't even want to be a fine classical flautist. I want to have fun playing whatever instrument I play and to be free and creative if possible.
For years I played standards with a pianist and improvised, but it didn't work, partly because the pianist never learned how to accompany and support soloists - that bored him. But also because I find it very difficult to memorize songs, to learn them by ear, to hear and remember the changes. Up to now I've been too lazy to work on what didn't come relatively easily. But in the past week I decided to learn the changes for "All the Things You Are" once and for all, slowly and patiently. I'm going to give that what it takes, and once I can do that fluently, I'll try to improvise on those chords. If I can muster the patience to get that song down, maybe it will be easier for me to learn other songs.
If I had begun doing this kind of music work when I was a teenager, I wouldn't have to struggle now, when my memory isn't as retentive as it was.
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