Thursday, June 25, 2015

Gunther Schuller & Jim Hall

Gunther Schuller & Jim Hall - Variants On a Theme of Thelonious Monk (Criss-Cross)


Uploaded on Jun 29, 2011
Gunther Schuller & Jim Hall - Variants On a Theme of Thelonious Monk (Criss-Cross) - From JAZZ ABSTRACTIONS (Variants I - IV)

Ornette Coleman (alto sax)
Eric Dolphy (flute, alto sax, bass clarinet)
Robert Domenica (flute)
Jim Hall (guitar)
Eddie Costa (vibes)
Bill Evans (piano)
Scott LaFaro (bass)
George Duvivier (bass)
Sticks Evans (drums)
and the Contemporary String Quartet

Gunther Schuller (1925-2015)

Reprinted from http://jazzwax.com

Screen Shot 2015-06-22 at 7.18.52 PM
Gunther Schuller, a classically trained French hornist, composer and conductor whose passion for jazz motivated him to record with jazz musicians and then fuse classical and jazz into what would become known as Third Stream, died Sunday in Boston. He was 89.
I interviewed Gunther in 2010 on his jazz experiences. Here are all four parts of that inteview combined...
JazzWax: Where exactly did you grow up?
Gunther Schuller: As a young child, I spent 4½ years in a private school in Germany for foreign children of German 1941_Bass_Section-1parentage. My parents were German, but they had emigrated to America and my father was in the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. I was a slightly unruly, rebellious child, so they placed me in a boarding school in Germany. [Pictured: The 1941 New York Philharmonic bass section]
JW: Why did they do that?
GS: My parents had assumed that a German education would1129365009_d134632dcf be best for me. Besides, both of my parents had relatives there, so on vacations I would stay with them. I attended that school from January 1932 until December 1936. I had an incredible education there. In the second grade I was studying subjects like French, Latin, geography and geology. [Pictured: German countryside]

JW: 
As you’re studying civilization, Germany is growing rapidly uncivilized.
GS:
 Yes. We were isolated in the school from what was Hitler460happening there. By definition, these private schools for foreign children with German parents were sealed off from outside distractions, and Hitler had promised to leave them undisturbed. However, since Hitler never kept any agreement that he had made, he invaded all those private schools in 1936.
JW: What happened to you?
GS: In the last half year of my stay there, I was inducted into the Hitler Youth. There I was in a brown uniform parading 6a00d8341c8e0153ef01156fc434e9970b-400wiuselessly up and down outside, with the commandant beating us severely once a week. I wrote my parents about what was going on there, but they were in disbelief. They were 3,000 miles away in New York. Even in America, people in the 1930s were in disbelief that Hitler was really that bad or evil.
JW: How did you finally leave Germany?
GS: In 1936, when I turned 11, I lost my right eye in a knife accident. It's too gory to get into, but I was in the hospital for a week and underwent a double operation on my eye. You can imagine SuperStock_463-5105how my mother felt when she heard the news. I had to leave the school, of course, and my mother had to come to Germany to take me home to New York. In those days there were no airplanes crossing the Atlantic, so it took her seven days to get there. I’ve had an artificial right eye ever since.
JW: Where did your parents live in New York?
GS: In Queens. As soon as I arrived, I was enrolled in another private school—St. Thomas Choir School. I was there for 800px-Sttomchoirschjehthree years. The school was nearly as rigorous as the one in Germany, so I had little time for anything more than my studies. What I am today is largely a result of the education I had in Germany and New York.
JW: Did you find New York exciting?
GS: Well, of course. Though we lived in Queens, we were in Manhattan a lot. When I came to New York, it was discovered that I had musical talent. I didn’t know that and no one else knew that either. So I became a musician very quickly, between age 11 and 16. And a composer afterward.
JW: How was high school after St. Thomas?
GS: I don’t know. I finished three years ahead of everyone else. I had already covered everything that the high school was Gshtteaching for graduation in my earlier private schools. That’s how I wound up becoming a professional French horn player at age 16 and playing with Arturo Toscanini in the New York Philharmonic.
JW: Were you aware of how advanced you were?
GS: I knew I was good. My father was the leader of the second violins in the Philharmonic. He was a terrific violinist. My teacher and father had recommended me, and I was hired. Toscanini was inspiring, but he was one of those temperamental tyrants who just behaved ridiculously on the podium.
JW: How so?
GS: Toscanini was the greatest conductor of that era, but he86f202bd779ac554_landing would explode in these outbursts, these scatological fits with Italian curse words. It was frightening to work with him. But he was such a great musician and conductor. We played extremely well with him. But if he landed on you, you were in trouble. [Photo of Arturo Toscanini conducting Metropolitan Opera stars in 1946 by W. Eugene Smith for Life]
JW: Did he ever land on you?
GS: Not in that first performance. Toscanini tended not to conduct contemporary music, and my first performance L05182063pljust happened to be Dmitri Shostakovich’s Seventh Symphony,which was composed in 1941. Toscanini didn’t know the symphony as well as he knew works by Wagner, Beethoven and Rossini. I came away unscathed [laughs].
JW: Why do you suppose that happened, specifically?
GS: Probably because he hardly knew I was there. The Toscaninisymphony, you see, has eight horns instead of the usual four. I was hired as one of the extra players. But I was scared. I was just 16 years old and I feared he’d look around, see me and say, “What is this little kid doing in this orchestra?”
JW: So you were playing in the orchestra with your dad?
GS: Yes, he was about 30 feet away.
JW: Did you feel the added pressure of your father’s presence and judgment?
GS: Yes, always. I played with the New York Philharmonic later as first French horn player, and my Toscanini_bng_piccolofather was always sitting by. But I was good. There were a few bad moments. Only once in a great while would he look at me with a sour look. But not in the Shostakovich symphony. I think Toscanini was just glad to have gotten through it.
JW: Did Toscanini give you a hard time later?
GS: Not really. He was a great conductor of Wagner, whose Conductinghdl12108late operas required eight horns. For those performances, Toscanini would hire the four extra horns he needed from the Metropolitan Opera, where by that time I was playing first horn. That’s how I was able to play with him many times, when he conducted the NBC Symphony Orchestra in those Wagner programs. [Photo of Toscanini conducting the NBC Symphony in 1947 by Robert Hupka]
JW: How did you avoid distractions in New York?
GS: Well, I didn’t. I became heavily involved with all the arts—film, painting, literature, dance and other forms. This is hard to  Picture 1explain. My girlfriend, who later became my wife, and I lived the full cultural life of New York, which is now quite gone. New York was, in the late 1930s and 1940s and well into the 50s, the cultural paradise of the world. It was unbelievable in its richness, wit, breadth, depth—and I feasted on that. It was so mesmerizing. It's almost impossible to describe the energy and excitement today. [Pictured: Women with Statue at the Museum of Modern Art in 1948 by Ruth Orkin]

JW: Did you explore it all?
GS: My wife and I hardly ever slept. We existed on three or Fritz_langfour hours’ sleep. Whenever we were free, we’d see three or four films showing at the Museum of Modern Art. I was obsessed with the art of film—the great films from Germany and France from the 1920s and 1930s. We went to all the museums and galleries, saw performances of all kinds. We went to jazz clubs. We did everything. We just ate up the entire cultural ambiance of New York at the time.

read more: http://www.jazzwax.com/2015/06/gunther-schuller-1925-2015.html?utm_source=feedblitz&utm_medium=FeedBlitzRss&utm_campaign=FeedBlitzRss&utm_content=Gunther+Schuller+%281925-2015%29
Used with permission by Marc Myers

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Gunther Schuller: 'Moon Dreams'

Reprinted from http://jazzwax.com

Gslgb
In all, there were three studio recording dates for what would eventually become known as the Birth of the Cool. The Miles Davis Nonet recorded on January 21, 1949, April 22, 1949 and March 9, 1950. On the last date, Gunther Schuller was hired in place of Sandy Siegelstein—Claude Thornhill's French hornist—who could not make the session. Nor could Junior Collins, the hornist on the first date.
Miles-davis-birth-of-the-cool-20120615120851
Though the nonet was scheduled to record some of their moodiest pieces on March 9, 1950—Deception, Rocker, Darn That Dream and Moon Dreams—there was plenty of edge and tension to go around.
Images
In his new memoir, A Life in Pursuit of Music and Beauty(University of Rochester Press), Gunther Schuller reflects on the session and how it nearly came undone.
Here's an excerpt:
Jmetopera_10
"A few weeks prior to the scheduled [nonet] sessions, Miles actually came to the Met to meet with me, to personally check me out, since he had never heard me play, and to go over the horn parts with me. (I have to think that Miles may have been the first jazz or black musician to ever set foot in the musicians' locker room in the then lily-white, 67-year-old Metropolitan Opera House).
Birth4
"The Nonet's pre-session rehearsals went quite well, especially on Rocker, Deception and Darn That Dream, although much less so for Moon Dreams. The problem there was that Gil Evans' recomposition of [Chummy] MacGregor's ballad included a coda, where two things happen: 1) the weight of the heavy, atonal chords in the six horns completely overpower the simple quarter-note time on the cymbal (in the drum part), thus, in effect, quashing any sense of a jazz or swing beat, so central to jazz playing, and 2) to complicate matters further, the 'horns' split into six separate polyphonic lines, with some of the most intricate, vertically uncoordinated rhythmic anticpations and suspensions ever heard in jazz up to that time.
Images-4
"We kept falling apart in that section, except one time, when I asked Max Roach—for rehearsal purposes only—to play his quarter-note beats really loudly, with sticks rather than brushes. That, however, was not what Gil [pictured] had intended. I'm sure Gil did not realize how difficult those last twenty or so bars of Moon Dreamsare. By the way, strangely, Gil was never at any of our rehearsals.
SchullerWithHorn_275x278
"I got to the record date a half hour early. I was really anxious, not only because it was my most important involvement with jazz to date—a virtual nobody, suddenly working with some of the finest jazz talents in the world—but also because, as a very experienced musician in classical preparation procedures (rarely exercised in jazz in those days), I worried about how we would be able to record so much new and difficult music in a three-hour record session. And so were J.J. [Johnson] and Bill Barber. We were especially worried about how we were going to get through the coda inMoon Dreams. [Photo above: Gunther Schuller]
Images-2
"A few minutes after I got to the studio, I went to Miles [pictured] and said, 'Please, Miles, you know how difficult that Moon Dreams is, and you also know how tiring that piece is for our chops, especially for me and J.J., and probably for you, too.' He nodded a yes. 'So, please, don't do Moon Dreams last, that'll be dangerous. You don't have to do it first, but maybe second—just to get the most difficult piece out of the way early in the session, when our minds and chops are still fresh. Please,please don't leave it for last.'
Screen shot 2012-07-31 at 2.51.43 PM
"A bit later, I saw Miles go into the control room to talk to Lee Gillette [pictured], who was A&Ring the recording. Of course, I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I assumed it was something like: the guys in the band would like to do Moon Dreams fairly early on, not at the end of the session; it's the most difficult piece for us. OK?
"Well, for whatever reason, my request, my suggestion was ignored.
120
"We recorded Gerry Mulligan's Rocker first, and it went very well. When Gillette announced from the control room that we should do Deception next, I looked at Miles questioningly. He merely shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, 'I'm sorry, it's not my call. Lee wants us to doDeception now.' There was no time to argue, and I didn't feel I could intervene. I was only a sideman, not the leader. I was lucky to be on the date.
Images-6
"Gerry's Deception also went well, although for some reason we did three takes, even when some of us thought the second one was really quite good. (Maybe something went wrong in the control room.) My heart sank when I heard that Darn That Dream with Kenny Hagood as vocalist, was scheduled next. It took a while to get the microphone levels and balances set between Kenny and the band, and again we were asked to do more takes than we thought necessary. [Pictured: Gunther Schuller]
"Darn That Dream is a good song, in fact one of Jimmy Van Heusen's best, and it was the easiest piece to record. But in the context of an essentially instrumental ensemble session, it seemed to me that this one vocal piece was odd man out, so to speak, maybe even expendable, and it certainly didn't warrant making more than two takes.
Images-5
"We had only three hours for the entire session, but one has to subtract at least 20 minutes for intermission breaks. And here we were spending precious extra time on that song, rather than saving our energies and chops for the most tiring piece on the docket. (Slow-tempo pieces with lots of long notes are always more tiring for brass instruments.) And now we had only 35 minutes left in the session, and the most difficult piece by far yet to do.
Images-7
"During a five-minute break, J.J. [pictured] turned to me and said, 'I hope I can get through this thing. My chops are beat.' 'Yeah, mine too.' Things were also made more difficult by the fact that the studio where we were recording was quite small, almost claustrophobically so—and everything sounded very dry. There was little reverberation in the room, no acoustic aura to the sound. I felt that the notes I played dropped immediately to the floor, with hardly any projection.
Davis miles1459
"The atmosphere in the studio was now getting really tense. (Miles mentions this also in his autobiography.) What I had worried about if Moon Dreams was left to the end of the session was coming true. I really felt we weren't going to make it, especially when Gillette announced over the studio intercom, 'Gentlemen, there's not overtime; don't even think about it! Capitol Records is not going to give us any!'
Miles14
"It was not 10 minutes before the end of the session. During the final five-minute break, I decided, in desperation, that in order for us to get through the coda somebody would have to conduct, to keep us together rhythmically. And that someone was going to have to be me. [Pictured above: Miles Davis]
"I told Miles that's what we should do, to which, thank God, he readily agreed. I moved my chair and stand forward a foot or two, and told everyone to also move a little so that they could see me. (So far the six 'horns' had all sat in a straight row, with virtually no eye contact between us.)
Schuller-Gunther-05[1950s]
Very few readers will know that playing the horn and conducting at the same time is a rather awkward and precarious business, for the simple reason that we hornists play with one right hand in the bell of the horn. If you take your hand out of the bell, your playing will automatically go a little sharp in intonation. To partially avoid that, I pulled out the main slide on my horn, and hoped that with some additional lipping down I would be able to conduct with my right hand and still play in tune. [Pictured above: Gunther Schuller]
Davis miles20179
"That's exactly what happened, and that is how we got through the piece in the last five minutes of the session without breaking down, and with at least an acceptable rendering of Gil's complex rhythms, although the intonation could still have been better."
JazzWax pages: You'll find Gunther Schuller: A Life inImagesPursuit of Music and Beauty at Amazon here.
JazzWax clip: Here's Moon Dreams from the March 9, 1950 recording session by the Miles Davis Nonet, featuring Gunther Schuller on French horn...
Used with permission by Marc Myers

Sunday, November 22, 2009

The World According to Gunther Schuller


The truly gifted composer, conductor, arranger, performer and friend, at work creating the Birth of the Cool Suite for Joe Lovano's Blue Note CD, Streams of Expression.

Gunther Schuller

Born: November 22, 1925
The composer Gunther Schuller is, famously, a man of many musical pursuits. He began his professional life as a horn player in both the jazz and classical worlds, working as readily with Miles Davis and Gil Evans as with Toscanini; he was principal horn of the Cincinnati Symphony from age sixteen and later of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra until 1959.

In the 1950s he began a conducting career focusing largely on contemporary music, and thereafter conducted most of the major orchestras of the world in a wide range of works, including his own. He was central in precipitating a new stylistic marriage between progressive factions of jazz and classical, coining the term “Third Stream” and collaborating in the development of the style with John Lewis, the Modem Jazz Quartet, and others.
An educator of extraordinary influence, he has been on the faculties of the Manhattan School of Music and Yale University; he was, for many years, head of contemporary music activities (succeeding Aaron Copland) as well as a director of the Tanglewood Music Center, and served as President of the New England Conservatory. He has published several books and recently embarked on the writing of his memoirs.

In the late 1970s he started the GunMar and Margun music publishing companies and later the GM Recordings label. (The GunMar/ Margun catalogs are now part of G. Schirmer/Music Sales/AMP.) Composition has had a continual central presence in Schuller's musical life: he has written more than 180 works dating back to the beginning of his career when, at age nineteen, he was soloist in his own Horn Concerto with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra under Eugene Goosens. His works range from solo works to concertos, symphonies, and opera, and many fall outside of any genre (for which reason there can be no such thing as a brief and comprehensive overview of his output).

Gunther Schuller's orchestral works include some of the classics of the modern repertoire written for the major orchestras of the world. Prominent among these are several masterful examples in the “Concerto for Orchestra” genre, though not all of them take that title. An early example is Spectra (1958), commissioned by the New York Philharmonic for the orchestra's departing music director Dimitri Mitropoulos. Schuller reconfigured musical space by organizing the ensemble onstage into smaller chamber groups within the larger orchestra, and also concentrated on instrumental timbre as a defining aspect of the piece's form and expression; both of these aspects were cutting-edge for the time, foreshadowing concerns of later composers. Spectra remains a compelling orchestral essay alongside such other works as the Concerto for Orchestra No. 1: Gala Music (1966), written for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra; Concerto for Orchestra No. 2 (1976) for the National Symphony Orchestra; and Farbenspiel (Concerto for Orchestra No. 3) (1985), written for the Berlin Philharmonic. The title of the latter, translatable as “play of colors,” echoes the visual metaphor of Spectra.

Many of Schuller's other purely orchestral works draw explicitly on visual influences while invoking the Impressionist and late Romantic tone poems of Debussy and Schoenberg. These include one of his most popular pieces, Seven Studies on Themes of Paul Klee (1959), which Schuller describes as a “translation” into musical terms of several paintings which were Klee's own translations of musical themes into the visual realm. Seven Studies was written for and premiered by the Minneapolis Orchestra. A later work, An Arc Ascending (1996), was inspired by photographs by Alice Weston. Orchestral works of similar origin are his Four Soundscapes (Hudson River Reminiscences) and Shapes and Designs.

Only one of Schuller's large orchestral pieces takes the generic title of “symphony”: his colorful Symphony 1965, written for the Dallas Symphony Orchestra and premiered that year. Schuller himself, however, has described his Of Reminiscences and Reflections (1993) as a “symphony for large orchestra.” Written for the Louisville Orchestra and winner of the 1994 Pulitzer Prize in Music, Of Reminiscences and Reflections is Schuller's large-scale memorial to his wife of 49 years, Marjorie Black. (Another orchestral tribute to Marjorie is The Past Is the Present, written for the centennial of the Cincinnati Symphony and premiered in May 1994.) One of his first works performed by a major orchestra was his Symphony for Brass and Percussion, played in 1949 by Mitropoulos and the New York Philharmonic; his Symphony No. 3, In Praise of Winds (1981) is also for wind ensemble. He has also written a Chamber Symphony and a work for solo organ titled, simply, Symphony.


Concertos and concertante works for solo or small ensemble with orchestra form a large subgroup within Schuller's output. To go along with the two piano concertos (1962 and 1981), two violin concertos (1976 and 1991), two horn concertos (1943 and 1976), and concertos for trumpet, for flute, and for viola, Schuller has championed as soloists unusual but deserving instruments including alto saxophone, bassoon, contrabassoon, organ, and double bass. He has shown a predilection for works combining small ensemble and orchestra in his classic Contrasts for Wind Quintet and Orchestra (1961), Concerto Festivo for Brass Quintet and Orchestra, and the Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra, to name a few. For concert band are Diptych for Brass Quintet and Concert Band (1967), Eine Kleine Posaunemusik for trombone and band (1980), and Song and Dance for violin and band (1990). He added notably to the percussion ensemble repertoire with his Grand Concerto for Percussion and Keyboards, featuring more than 100 percussion instruments, written for the New England Conservatory Percussion Ensemble. The Grand Concerto was premiered at Tanglewood in July 2005 by Tanglewood Music Center Fellows under the composer's direction.

Schuller's two operas date from the early-middle of his compositional career. The Visitation (1966), a full-evening work in three acts based on a Kafka story, was produced by the Hamburg State Opera and the San Francisco Opera and was produced for television by the BBC in 1969. His hour-long 1970 children's opera The Fisherman and His Wife features a libretto by John Updike drawn from the Grimm fairy tale.
As in his concertos, Schuller's chamber music is for a range of both traditional and non-traditional forces, from the four string quartets, brass and woodwind quintets, to works for solo instrument or voice with piano and mixed-ensemble pieces. These works appear frequently on the programs of local and internationally known ensembles throughout the US, Europe, and Japan. His String Quartet No. 3 (1986) is prominent in the repertoire of, and has been recorded by, the Emerson String Quartet, and the Juilliard Quartet has championed his String Quartet No. 4 (2002). The outstanding, exotic mixed-media work Symbiosis (1957) for violin, piano, and percussion, written for a Metropolitan Opera Orchestra violinist and his wife, a dancer, is but one example of Schuller's embrace of unusual performance opportunities and instrumental combinations.

Not to be overlooked are Schuller's original jazz compositions such as Teardrop and Jumpin' in the Future, works that epitomize the composer's Third Stream approach combining the total-chromatic language of Schoenberg and the structural sophistication of the contemporary classical composer with the ensemble fluidity and swing of jazz. Schuller's realizations and orchestrations of music by composers from Tallis and Monteverdi to John Knowles Paine and Charles Ives coexist with his concert ensemble arrangements of classic jazz, standards, and ragtime music by Jelly Roll Morton, Dizzy Gillespie, Duke Ellington, and many others. Of special importance is his work with the music of Scott Joplin. His performances and arrangements of Joplin's music resulted directly in an immense resurgence of interest in the composer and in ragtime music generally in the 1970s.

Schuller's advocacy of other composers through performance, publishing, recording, teaching and administration has been as unflagging in its energy and scope as his pursuit of his own musical expression as performer, conductor, and composer.
http://www.allaboutjazz.com/php/musician.php?id=4136