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The Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians and the (Aural) Arts After Jazz
Jazz and the A A C M
But they did not do so by pointedly excluding any tropes or methods associated with the Jazz genre. Instead, they included Jazz - and not just Free Jazz, but relatively-traditionalist approaches as well - as part of their larger, experimental body of work. But this trait does not make the A A C M "Post-Modernist," as if they merely threw widely-contrasting genres together. No... A A C M artists refused to accept, as norms of compositional method, any standard forms found in either Jazz or European Classical music; they still began from a radical beginning point. The composer of an atonal notated work with no semblance of a regular rhythmic pattern has certainly done something different from a composer whose work features musicians using the chord changes of the "head" as the basis for improvisations, plus the recognizable Jazz "swing" beat with "walking" bass line. But we would not say he has been more creative or original simply because he composed the work "out of the blue," while the harmonic system and regular rhythms the second composer chose existed beforehand. So long as that second composer understands that he had other options available, and purposely chose not to take those routes, he still possessed a radical perspective. The composers who never considered the other options are the ones who restricted their own creativity, and might eventually take the forced eclecticism of self-proclaimed "Post-Modernism."
To see this approach in action, turn to Roscoe Mitchell's 3 X 4 Eye [recorded in 1981], a fine record from a period of Mitchell's career often ignored in favor of his work with the Art Ensemble. While Braxton's massive oeuvre shows off his own vast range and reminds us of the genuinely-eclectic work of his fellow Association members, arguably Mitchell's music best captures the essence of the A A C M experience. As recognizable as Braxton's or Threadgill's saxophone styles are, Mitchell offers something else entirely. We hear often of the intensity of, say, Peter Brötzmann or Kaoru Abe, but Mitchell ultimately stands as the greatest purveyor of saxophone dissonance. His tone is nearly as metallic as the instrument itself, whether taking the form of pointillist squeaks and honks voiced with unexpected delicacy; or relentless lines, barreling forward in all directions at once, both the instrument and presumably the instrumentalist himself convulsing in sound. The first track on the album, "Cut Outs for Quintet," offers a prototypical Mitchell - and, thus, A A C M - notated (or at least partially-notated) work, and as such manifests the point Lewis makes several times regarding the clear difference between the interdisciplinary work of A A C M artists and the Jazz-Classical fusion propagated by Gunther Schuller known as "Third Stream" ("collagist rather than interpenetrative," as Lewis puts it not-so clearly). It lacks recognizable "jazz" tropes, even those of Free Jazz. The drums, double bass, and electric guitar do not offer any regular rhythmic backing, nor do they move quickly (or ecstatically, as some would say) from one gesture or technique to another; meanwhile, the saxophone and trumpet do not take a "solo" where their particular line of musical thought is front and center. At the same time, Mitchell does not aim to imitate Modernist Classical masters; something new is afoot: as with Mitchell's "L-R-G," named for its three performers (Leo Smith, Roscoe Mitchell, George Lewis) the piece is written with the musicians in mind, besides obviously using a Jazz-like small-band format. Nonetheless, to begin to grasp their overall form, "Cut Outs," "L-R-G," and similar pieces make the same kind of demands upon the listener's attention as Modernist Classical or Academic Electroacoustic music. The album's second track then may jolt some listeners upon first listen: "Jo Jar," a jovial tune with Dixieland and Caribbean accents, features a "head," a driving backbeat, "solos" by Mitchell and trumpeter Hugh Ragin, and brief "joyful noise" collective blow-outs. The surprise comes not just with the switch itself, but with how well Mitchell and co. pull it off. The track offers Jazz as played by musicians who understand the tradition both intuitively and as a cultural production requiring extraordinary discipline; and yet nevertheless are not obliged to play it traditionally, or play it at all, by anyone but themselves. In other words, despite this fine performance, which would certainly be accessible to a mainstream audience, few commercial or critical awards were afforded these artists because of their ability to perform such music. Indeed, the traditionalists of the 1980's made the belabored manner in which they seemed to respond to the demands of the past a major selling point of their music and their personas. After all, one's not likely to have much fun concocting elaborate imitations of the second Miles Davis Quintet.
Still, most of the public attention and financial patronage A A C M artists have received initially come via "jazz" channels, mostly in the 1970's before the reactionary "Classicist" turn. Moreover, Lewis's emphasis on the experimental realm not merely responds to common failures to understand the Jazz avant garde's (and the A A C M's) crucial role in experimental music, but also suggests an interpretation of the entirety of Jazz as experimental music. Still, except in the somewhat-frequent attention directed toward Braxton's always-frequent work (of all Association members, he is the most prolific and challenging, an extraordinary feat given the competition) A A C M artists have rarely received the due they deserve within experimental-music circles, or even in academia - especially in the case of retrospective accounts of the 1960's and '70's. As for other artists who arose from "jazz"-identified milieus, the situation is even worse. A Power Stronger Than Itself redresses that imbalance. It does not aim to do so merely by lauding the Association's achievements or responding to those who have ignored or misunderstood its work. Rather, Lewis eagerly lumps his book into other recent studies that, in his eyes, effectively redirect the reader's perspective away from the classical-popular binary. As Lewis puts it, "a new generation of writers on improvised music who were, first, declining to conflate oversimplification with accessibility; second, asserting common cause with intellectuals in other fields concerning the ways music could announce social and cultural change; and finally, seeking liberation from the Sisyphean repetition of ersatz populist prolegomena that seemed endemic to the field." He points to Ajay Heble and Eric Porter as key examples. However deferential he is to his fellow Association members, Lewis uses their life stories and their music work as vantage points from which to delve into an impressive array of issues. The implications of Lewis's conclusions about the controversies and debates he broaches could spawn numerous future responses. Here we offer only a few.
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