February 5–12, 1998

music

Outward Bound

An interview with Muhal Richard Abrams

By Nate Chinen

For over three decades, pianist-composer Muhal Richard Abrams has pursued a music of change. Abrams co-founded the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, the Chicago-based organization that virtually defined the "new music" of the '60s. In the three decades since, Abrams has continued to push relentlessly forward. In 1990, Copenhagen's Danish Jazz Center created the illustrious JazzPar prize, and selected Abrams as the first recipient. Yet it's almost impossible to characterize Abrams' ever-evolving compositional style. Song for All (Black Saint), his newest release, blends elements of African and avant-garde European musical traditions with straight-ahead swing, funk backbeats and a healthy dose of free improvisation.

Abrams rarely grants interviews, but he agreed to speak with City Paper about his first-ever performance in the City of Brotherly Love. A reticent but impassioned speaker, Abrams doesn't hesitate to challenge the assumptions behind each question. He also lays down some strict parameters for our conversation: "Okay," he says warily when I call to request a few minutes of his time. "As long as you don't ask me any questions concerning opinions on other musicians. And nothing about the past."

One of the most striking things about Song for All is the way in which each song adheres to a single compositional voice.

It's like riding on a train, I guess. If you're on Train Z, then you're on Train Z. It has its pace, and its atmosphere… If I played Body and Soul, I would play the atmosphere of Body and Soul. Now, it goes further than that, because, doing improvisation, it introduces new types of space within the space. But I think you're referring to the overall flavor. It's simply that you try to adhere to the vehicle that you're dealing with. Otherwise everything would sound the same.

Your paintings have appeared on the covers of many of your albums. To what extent do tonal colors figure into your compositions? I often find myself using that metaphor with your music.

Well, that's fine, because I don't think there's a real difference except in how each medium is administered. There's color in painting, there's rhythm in painting, [and] tone, and it parallels the same situation in music. So the correlation or the use of the same parameters or properties in both media is a natural phenomenon. And I think that's more or less where everything comes from—it's a natural situation. I paint because I love to paint. I play music because I love to play music. So it all is coming from an individual creative action.

I get the impression that the jazz media sometimes view musicians who compose as having two separate identities.

Why? The musicians didn't do that. That perception, or whatever that is, has nothing to do with musicians. And I think you should print that. That has nothing to with musicians. Nothing. Was Monk a composer? Did he play the piano? Was Duke Ellington a composer? Did he play the piano? Was Charlie Parker a composer? Did he play the saxophone? Was Miles Davis a composer? Was Charlie Mingus a composer? So you see, I have no idea where that notion could come from. Certainly I don't think it came about as the result of musicians' opinions. Maybe the notion came from the fact that jazz musicians are not supposed to be educated in what they're doing. Why is the jazz musician just relegated to performing, and not composing? Now, there are a lot of jazz musicians who do not compose to a great degree. But that's how they want to function… Then there are musicians who emphasize both. I emphasize both. I'm sure what you're saying is true. I'm sure you've discussed it with people, the situation you speak of.

It's a troubling misperception.

It should trouble you. Then, on the other hand, it shouldn't. Because if you look at the facts as a musician, that shouldn't worry you. I mean, is it unusual that a musician would be a good composer and a good performer?

At this time many of the musicians who get recognition are playing music from a narrowly defined period.

Yeah, but that's not defined by musicians… That is a mixture of types of people: musicians, business people, media. So therefore, that has nothing to do with the essence of what the music is. That has to do with the essence of what the marketplace is, not the music. You follow me? There are a lot of people into creative music—and it's growing, and will grow on and on, I mean newly created things. And it will grow on and on, you see. The media's not recognizing [it] to the extent that we think it should… it's a situation where the music has to remain true to itself. Now, it can be done in different ways. Some people will keep the flame, and will adhere to a certain period—there's nothing wrong with that. But others will respect the past and then adhere to what all the other innovators in the past did, addressing their individualism… So the tradition of this music, the essence of the music, is change itself. I don't think we should be discouraged with how the marketplace chooses to deal with the phenomenon. The marketplace always deals with the phenomena as they wish. That's just the way it is. But the thing is, I think when we get ready to talk about what is truthfully happening in the music in general, we have to take the marketplace out of it. Because not everybody [is] going to be supported, not everybody [is] going to be recorded… I think musicians should do whatever they feel they should do, as long as they respect themselves and move forward.

What would you say to someone who is listening to your music for the first time?

Nothing.

Let the music speak for itself.

Exactly. Not a word. There's nothing to say. Everybody has grown up in their own way, so they know what they want to accept and what they don't want to accept. It has to be that way; that's fair. Nothing wrong with that. So I have nothing to say—what can I tell them? What I think may not be what they think. Come there and play the music. That's what we'll do. Come there and play the music, and have a good time doing it.

Muhal Richard Abrams appears with drummer Reggie Nicholson, bassist Brad Jones and saxophonist Patience Higgins at the Painted Bride Art Center, 230 Vine St., Fri., Feb. 6, 8 & 10 p.m., $20, 925-9914.