It Was 50 Years Ago Today... 5 Oct 2014 8:45 AM (10 years ago)

Happy 50th Anniversary of the October Revolution everyone!

Be sure to share how you celebrated the 50th Anniversary of this historic event in the Comments section!

And of course, (what would be) a very happy 89th Birthday to il maestro.

One Year Later 16 Jun 2011 8:05 AM (13 years ago)

It was a year ago today.

Having thought about it daily for the last 364 days, the following wish list has crystalized:

I wish all of Dixon's music--and I mean all of it, the gigantic stack of reel-to-reel tapes in his closets and all the cassettes--were "available." Available by paid download, available by free download, available by purchasing cd's manufactured by the Trust--whatever. That part doesn't matter--not to me anyway.

I wish all of Dixon's written music was also available--either in leather bound portfolio, in photo copy or PDF. Those particulars also doesn't matter as much (to me). It's the knowledge and overstanding I'm after--and for that I'd pay happily. I'm guessing that as time goes on and the rest of the world catches up to Dixon's contribution to music, I won't be the only one interested in that material.

I wish all of the recordings of Dixon speaking (of which there are hours and hours and hours) were transcribed then I wish someone (I wonder who?) would transcribe all those tapes and turn them into two books: The Complete and The Aphoristic. Heck, even golfers love the Aphoristic.

Related to this, I wish all the Dixon interviews from WKCR (as well as any other radio) were also made available (both as audio and as written document) and included in the aforementioned collections.

I wish there was a bibliography of all the books Dixon owned at the time of his death. Actually, I'd like to know all the books Dixon ever read in his entire life, but that might take a while.

I wish there was a record-o-graphy (is that what you call it?) of all the recordings Dixon owned at the time of his death. I'd also like to know all the records Dixon got rid of way back when he had is big record purge. I do remember him saying that one of the records he made a point of keeping was Ornette On Tenor. What else did he keep?

The living man is gone, and for that we are certainly the poorer. There is, however, a huge trove of material generated by Dixon, most of which even his most ardent fans have not heard. Not to be a glutton, as his "official" releases are thick enough to keep anyone busy for a long long time. But there is so much more: A Dixon Apocrypha and Dixon Hadith await.

Just putting that thought-form out there.

Questions? Comments?

Happy Birthday Bill Dixon! 5 Oct 2010 9:05 PM (14 years ago)

Bill, you are missed.

You gave us so very much.

Thank you.

New Recording, Upcoming Performance 22 Nov 2009 1:29 PM (15 years ago)

Certainly by now you've heard the news about Tapestries for Small Orchestra.

If you haven't, take a look here, here, here, here , here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and ici.

Furthermore, Bill Dixon is going to perform with Rob Mazurek's Exploding Star Orchestra in Philadelphia on Saturday, December 5th at 8pm.

But don't take my word for it--read all about it here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.

Talk about finishing the year strong!

Happy Birthday Bill Dixon! 5 Oct 2009 9:05 AM (15 years ago)

Happy Birthday Bill Dixon!

Footage from dress rehearsal at the Vision Festival, 2007

Video footage by Nick Skrowaczewski.

Dixonia Corrections 1 Oct 2009 9:05 PM (15 years ago)

Preface to Dixonia Corrections:
C-series

The following information relates to the book Dixonia: A Bio-Discography of Bill Dixon, which was created in 1998 as a definitive account of Dixon’s musical achievements to that time.

Even as Dixonia was going to press, the volume itself acknowledged the uphill struggle it faced as a hard-copy work in a discographical world increasingly dominated by virtual data presentations. Had the project started or finished even a couple of years later, the overwhelming evidence in support of malleable, open-structure internet layout might have demanded a twin birth at least.

The 2009–10 effort to update Dixonia is driven by several factors. One is a very basic attempt to redress this discrepancy and give the project some kind of internet foothold. More important is the hope shared by non-fiction authors since Herodotus—to be able to correct mistakes or omissions that have come to light since the text was set. But by far the most compelling is that there has been much music from Bill Dixon since 1998, annotation of which comprises the bulk of this addendum.

More so than most musical artists, Bill Dixon remains in touch with and in command of the sounds and subjects of his artistic past. In light of the timelessness of those past accomplishments, it is hoped that Dixonia will never become ‘outdated’. But the scope of its information has certainly fallen out of touch with the pace, design, and sheer number of significant Bill Dixon activities in the decade since writing stopped.

It will be ironically apparent to many that henceforth this tiny un-self-sufficient cluster of C-series corrections may be easier to find and navigate than the original text they relate to. Nevertheless here we are. To create an entirely revised edition of Dixonia is unfeasible at present and will remain on the wish list, wrapped in the rather vain further wish that certain stylistic, grammatical, typographical, or analytical stances could be re-cast and corrected. For sake of expediency, the effort herein to make these corrections concerns itself with changes that substantively relate to truth and clarity of information, and not to those vanities of style.

Thankfully the discourse has advanced as well.

Dixon continues to discuss his own work—past, present, and future—with a new and eager and audience. Amid the continuing work in tangential fields of Scott Currie and Chris Bakriges, and others, scholars such as Andrew Raffo Dewar, Michael Heller, Ben Piekut, Peter Stubley, and George Scala have brought new analyses, viewpoints and information into the picture. Their corrections and additions will beget further corrections and additions. It may not be in the scope of Dixonia’s presentation to manage a chat-room or discussion site on Bill Dixon’s musical work, but it does stand to reason that if there can be this attempt to correct the course of knowledge about Bill Dixon then there can be others. In honor of the continued unfolding of Dixon’s activities, there must be.

Moving however old-fashionedly in that direction, the following schedule has been adopted for web revisions of Dixonia to be posted:

C-series 10/5/09
D-series 04/05/10
E-series 10/05/10

One further thought…
The preface to Dixonia called for further works of biography, aesthetic studies, etc. Forthcoming faster than such comprehensive works has been the realization that bio-discography really exists simultaneously on multiple planes—that is, the shifting of gears among thick musical description, disc history, correlative tape research, artistic biography, etc. can overtax the medium and especially the need for a connected, flowing, prose exposition. As this preamble is being constructed for the C-series corrections, the efforts are underway elsewhere in the field to create a fully adaptable multi-level bio- discographic tool that can unite the surface narrative with deeper examinations, audio and visual examples, artifactual evidence, and evidentiary meta-data under one roof, but not necessarily on the same page.

Ben Young
September 2009

+ + +

C-001
p. 4–6
Hartnett entry
CORRECTION: “Hartnett” is the correct spelling of the conservatory Dixon attended 1946–50. In the original printing of Dixonia, this change was incompletely applied so that both the correct and incorrect spellings appear on consecutive pages.

C-002
p. 8
ADDITIONAL ENTRY:
Dixon’s relationship to trumpeter Kenny Dorham may be clarified somewhat by the following: Dixon met Kenny Dorham while the latter was touring with the Billy Eckstine band (probably spring, 1946) . While still an emerging player on the instrument, Dixon recalls specifically one episode of his sitting in with Dorham at Club 25 in Brooklyn, and being helped to navigate the bridge to an AABA standard.

C-003
p. 10
To the information in the last paragraph on page 10 should be added the following: “Showman’s on 125th street was right next to the Apollo Theater at that time, in the early Fifties. There was a man named Bob Bunyan, and he ran the thing. He used to let me play there all the time. I’d go and wait my turn; somebody wouldn’t show... He had a trio there. Musicians playing the Apollo would come to sit in, but musicians came from all over. Richie Powell I first heard up close there.” The Showman’s appears to have opened under that name in mid-year 1950. The longevity of the music policy after 1951 is uncertain.
“Then there was the Heat Wave, on 145th Street between 7th Avenue and 8th Avenue. I did lots of playing there.”

C-004
p. 11
ADDITIONAL ENTRY:
ca. 1953 NYC
In or around this period, Dixon followed a lead posted—possibly at Hartnett—calling for a trumpet player in a Latin band led by a woman who sang and played maracas. Roughly 7 or 8 instruments. Applying for the job, he was asked if he had a union card, and was hired (on that and one subsequent occasion) to play with the band for roughly ten days, including at least stops in Philadelphia, Long Island, etc. Bill Dixon joined the AFM in 1953, though his recollection is that this episode may have taken place earlier, in his student period at Hartnett.

C-005
p. 11
ADDITIONAL ENTRY:
Though not much is pinpointed with this citation, note the episode of BD rehearsing at Newby Studios on 116th and 8th Avenue, as referred to inClifford Allen “Bill Dixon: In Medias Res” All About Jazz September 15, 2009. Dixon makes the following distinction: “At 315 Lenox Avenue, I did a lot of rehearsing a very large band. I would save my money to be able to do that. I never rehearsed there for a job, I don’t remember anything but rehearsing for the sake of rehearsing at 315. But at Newby’s, I did rehearse with other people for jobs and things like that.”

C-006
p. 15
“WBAI”
CORRECTION: The cross reference to * “R63-0395” means instead to indicate “R63-0495”

C-007
p. 17
59-0579
should be re-identified as 59-1106 and dated November 6, apparently, based on the following text: “Bill Dixon, who has a jazz club among UN employees [is] taking his quartet to Copa City in Long Island this weekend. He features Vinnie Girard on piano.” Jesse H. Walker “Theatricals” New York Amsterdam News November 7, 1959, p. 17
Girard, known by this spelling and the one used in Dixonia, apparently was born Vincente Gerardi.

C-008
p. 23
60-0202
CLARIFICATION: First sentence of second paragraph should more clearly say “Dixon remembers that he played very well”

C-009
p. 25
ADDITIONAL ENTRY
60-0813 Hudson River
August 13, 1960
Bill Dixon (trumpet); other unknown
“Dixon and his group played for a riverboat cruise mit Jazz on August 13, up the broad and nighttime Hudson. Reportedly a great success” from UNJS newsletter, August 1960, p.2
In a separate but not dissimilar episode, Dixon further specifies having played duets with a conga player on one occasion at Camp Unity [relative to the text on page p. 52], at the request of Norman Seaman, whom Dixon met there.

For sake of clarity, Dixon has no connection to and no knowledge of the YWCA performance including the “Bob Dixon Octet” mentioned in “Jazz Artists to Play for Uptown Y” New York Amsterdam News March 19, 1960, p.14.

C-010
p. 25
ADDITIONAL ENTRY
61-0315 P.S. 134: 306 East Broadway, New York
March 15, 1961
BD Matt Notkins (alto saxophone); David Kaye (piano); Ollie Richardson (bass); Warren Rogan (drums)
also sub John Bair (piano)

An 8:00pm Jazz Arts Society appearance. “The programs are informal sessions of actual rehearsals of young and untried musicians who are serious students of jazz.” from “Teenagers Hear Jazz Arts Society Program” New York Amsterdam News March 25, 1961, p. 17
“Dixon was moderator for [the] program and is community program [director] for Jazz Arts Society” per untitled photo standalone in New York Amsterdam News March 25, 1961, p. 17. Pictured are some but not all members of the group. The article details the musical backgrounds of some of the student participants.

C-011
p. 25
ADDITIONAL ENTRY
61-0322 P.S. 134: 306 East Broadway New York
March 22, 1961
personnel unclear; possibly similar in part to 61-0315

follows from “Teenagers Hear Jazz Arts Society Program” New York Amsterdam News March 25, 1961, p. 17, mentioning the previous, this, “and every Wednesday thereafter in the auditorium of P.S. 134 and is open to the public.”
data in this correction, the previous, and the next all elaborate on the discussion on Dixonia p. 337 [U60-0001].

C-012
p. 25
ADDITIONAL ENTRY
61-0323 Forest Neighborhood House: Bronx N Y
March 23, 1961
personnel unclear; possibly similar in part to 61-0315

8pm
“Other Community Centers in New York City will be serviced by the society as resources permit.”
mentioned obliquely in Dixonia p. 337; “Forest House” here is the correct spelling of what is misspelled on that page.

C-013
p. 30–31
61-1199
CORRECTION: “Don Oscar Becque” is the correct spelling of the name of this teacher and choreographer. Also misspelled on p. 38 and 39.

C-014
p. 34
62-0420
CORRECTION: Cross-reference regarding Helsinki means to indicate “62-0725”

C-015
p. 35
62-0499
CORRECTION: Ornette Coleman’s recording referred to in this entry is Something Else.

C-016
p. 41–42
62-0725
Much data continues to be missing surrounding the details of the concerts in Finland. Moving closer to a clear picture, though:
o The Eighth World Youth Festival of 1962 followed the 7th one, held in Vienna, by three years (1959)
o Theme of the 8th was “Peace and Friendship”
o The festival has been attributed to either July 27–August 4 or July 29–August 6, 1962
o An obviously one-sided, but nevertheless informative view comes from the hearings of the US committee on Un-American Activities, available in full text at http://www.archive.org/stream/communistyouthac00unit. The event is herein referred to as the “World Youth Festival of Youth and Students for Peace and Friendship”. Page 1818 identifies Kansan Uitset as a communist periodical that did cover the festival, in midst of a general press “blackout” of the event, as reported by one student participant in the hearings.

One citation that was left out of Dixonia: Jesse H. Walker “Theatricals” New York Amsterdam News July 28, 1962, p. 17 gives personnel including Shepp, Dixon, Don Moore, and Howard MacRae, and attributes to them an ambition of going to Helsinki, Oslo, and Copenhagen.
As with many of the entries in Todd Jenkins’s highly imaginative “Encyclopedia of Free Jazz and Free Improvisation”, only misinformation is added to the understanding of this period.

ADDITIONAL CITATION: Bertil Sundin article in Orkester Journalen September 1962, p.12+.

C-017
p. 46
62-0100a
CORRECTION: Cross-reference regarding the New York Contemporary Five means to indicate “R63-0799”

C-018
p. 48
R62-1000b
CORRECTION: First line of the Notes section should say ‘...may come from the same date as 62-1000a”

C-019
p. 62
ADDITIONAL BIBLIOGRAPHIC CITATION: Hettie Jones How I Became Hettie Jones (New York: E.P. Dutton, 1990), p. 203–04.

C-020
p. 63
R63-0799
CORRECTION
the cross reference to * “R63-0395” means instead to indicate “R63-0495”

C-021
p. 64
R63-0903
Storyville CDs 8209 and Storyville 8385 reissue all of the Dixon arrangements except “Cisum”

C-022
p. 65
R63-1012
The name of the director of Future One is correctly spelled “Niels Holt”

C-023
p. 66
R64-0204
Substantial revision to this entry is called for based on the CD reissue and updating of the
program of Savoy MG 12184. The reissue Savoy Jazz 93008-2 offers the music in stereo for the first time, and adds two new takes of the development section of “Winter Song, 1964”. The titles of that piece and its counterpart are also listed correctly for the first time, though a minor printing error was introduced: Ted Curson of course appears only on the New York Contemporary 5 side of the recording, and not on Track 9.

C-024
p. 69
“The Cellar”
the cross reference to * “U64-0395” appears to be a bogey, without a referent.

C-025
p. 77
R64-1228
ADDITIONAL BIBLIOGRAPHIC CITATION for the Freedomways benefit of December 27 described in this entry:
“Gregory in Benefit at Village Gate” New York Amsterdam News December 26, 1964, p. 16. Dixon is mentioned between Abbey Lincoln and Len Chandler in a list of those expected to take part. Sunday December 27, 1964

C-026
p. 78
64-9090
cross-reference to * “U64-1014” should instead refer the reader to The Guild discussion on p. 348–49.
CLARIFICATION: Francis Paudras adds some color and potential confusion to this explanation in Dance of the Infidels, the chapter called “Autumn in New York”, p. 285, 289–91, and passim thereafter. Taylor physically identified the apartment in 2003 where the 64-9090 event is to have taken place, a 13th street brownstone that would seem to fit better the description Paudras makes of the home of Marshall and Rozlyn Allen (p. 287) than the spot (mentioned on 285, 317, etc.) where Coleman had his residence.

Coltrane’s role, as described in this entry was pursued in an extensive and sympathetic meeting in this period among Dixon, Taylor, Coltrane, and Shepp.

C-027
p. 79
R65-0295
CORRECTION: Drummer’s name is correctly spelled “Fuhlrodt”.

C-028
p. 81
R65-0409
Sabino’s photos of the weekend’s events indicate that Kenyatta, Lyons, and McIntyre were present apparently only for BD’s piece and not the nearby Carla Bley performance(s). It is also likely that tenor saxophonist Bob Carducci was not present for the Sunday performance of Dixon’s work.

C-029
p. 83
R65-0695
CORRECTION: Bold citation in notes section should read “R65-0526”.

C-030
p. 84
* “65-0695”
This entry was erroneously given the same number as the previous. It should be reidentified as 65-0698
The name of the director of Future One is correctly spelled “Niels Holt”

C-031
p. 89
chapter intro: Dixon-Dunn
see as well the note on p. 100 [q.v., below]

C-032
p. 99
66-0702
Bold citation in the notes should be to R75-0628
also ADD BIBLIOGRAPHIC CITATIONS: George Simon “Newport Jazz Proves Jazz Is Here to Stay” Billboard July 16, 1966, p. 3 cont. 38. Dixon’s appearance was also announced in “Newport Jazz Festival Stars Named” in [Chicago] Daily Defender April 19, p. 10; and “Jazz Festival Programs to be Held Over July 4” May 31, 1966, p. 10. Notably, this latter citation supports the early projection that the group would be a quartet.

C-033
p. 100
66-0711
Dance World shows “Dew Horse” in 12/3 and 12/20 1965 performances at East 74th Street Theater that did not involve Dixon as a player or eyewitness. also relevant to the discussion on page 89, q.v.

C-034
p. 104
66-0909
Non-synch sound motion picture footage of this performance was made by filmmaker Jud Yalkut and incorporated into his Black-and white film of the festival’s events, which was hastily edited in the evening and also screened in Central Park the same night as a part of the festival
Film allows confirmation of the personnel except for Pozar, who is not identifiable.
A copy of the film is in the permanent holdings of Electronic Arts Intermix in New York

C-035
p. 110
R66-1010
release date can be better pinpointed using the mention from Billboard October 7, 1967, p. 62 citing that the LP was recently issued.

In light of the subsequent unfolding of Bill Dixon’s career as a recording artist and composer, note the poignancy of the following inscription on a copy of Intents and Purposes that he autographed in 1974 to dancer Barbara Ensley: “I hope you enjoy this record. I hope they let me make another one before the century ends.”

C-036
p. 111
R66-1010
bold citation in the notes should be to R75-0628

FURTHER TO R66-1010
probably 1970–71: High School filmmaker Jan Peterson made a non-verbal color-film documentary on visual artists Al(vin) Smith (1933–2001) with musical soundtrack by Bill Dixon. It screened as part of the Afro-American History course offered by the Metropolitan Museum on August 19, 1971 in the Junior Museum Auditorium, as reported in “Films of Afro-American Geneva Exhibit” in New York Amsterdam News August 28, 1971, p. D3. At least one other magazine citation refers to this film project.
The film used pre-recorded music by Dixon from the Intents and Purposes record.

C-037
p. 124
R 68-0000
listening to the recordings of the piece, Dixon identifies the following soloists: Dave Chamberlain (flute); Sonny Simmons (english horn); Arthur Doyle (tenor saxophone) playing constantly repeating triplet pattern

C-038
p. 137
68-0999
bold citation should refer instead to the discussion of Dixon’s songs at R78-1021.

C-039
p. 147
R70-0428
note that Odyssey issues all but the “Relay” section with bass guitar added

C-040
p. 149
R70-0593
CORRECTION: final bold cross reference on this page should instead refer to R90-1005.

C-041
p. 166
R72-0305
CORRECTION: cross-reference should instead cite Patt Lagg’s concert without Dixon at O72-0413

C-042
p. 167
R72-0305
CORRECTION: Bold citation to * “R75-1205” should indicate instead R75-1207.

C-043
p. 167
R72-0495
Chris Billias places this concert@ Mills Hall, gives personnel and soloists, saying as well that it’s an excerpt of a full concert reading with details similar to 72-0305. His additions to personnel: Herskovitz and Irvin A. McAllister (voice); Russell Allen (percussion); Hal Onserud (bass)
his solo attributions: BD Hagen Horenstein, Ash, Tifft, Verbich, Billias, Jackson

C-044
p. 177
R73-0098
CORRECTION: Citation to a Webern at * “R81-0799” should instead link to R82-0626

C-045
p. 178–79
R73-0100 and R73-0197
“Shrike” as issued on FORE THREE belongs in the session on the opposite page, R73-0100.

C-046
p. 181
chapter intro: BME
CORRECTION: First line of 3d paragraph should read: “The Bennington Music Department”

C-047
p. 183
note the connection to BD’s strategies in 1990+ for kinetic orchestration.

C-048
p. 184
CLARIFICATION: The festival is here referred to as a 3-day event; Dixon participated on three days out of the 4-day festival.

C-049
p. 185
73-0519
It is entirely likely that the “Webern” performance before an audience described in 73-0599 (p. 187, wherein a citation is also called for) was in fact the concert recording of this festival even wherein Dixon was represented through a playback of a studio-recorded “Webern”.

C-050
187: see [C-033] supra

C-051
p. 195
R74-0199
A layout error interrupts the list of elements in this piece, which should attach unbrokenly to the list starting on the beginning of p. 196.

C-052
p. 211
R75-0628
CLARIFICATION: The first line of data in the notes means to indicate that “Sotto Voce” and “Bennett” were to have been issued on FORE records.

C-053
p. 223
R77-0304
CORRECTION: first cross-reference means to indicate “R70-0610”.

C-054
p. 226
R77-0617
One dancer’s name in the entry is misspelled twice: She is now known professionally by the first name either Kathryn or Kate but always correctly with surname Bresee.

C-055
p. 233 and 234
R79-0428
The last entry on p. 233 and the first on p. 234 are identical; the entry appears twice due to a layout mistake.

C-056
p. 236
R79-0526
CORRECTION: Cross-reference to * “R80-0610a” means in fact R80-0611a.

C-057
p. 244
R80-0606
CLARIFICATION: BD plays trumpet on fourth selection here.

C-058
p. 246
ADDITIONAL ENTRY
80-0xxx
On a trip to Italy, possibly as early as mid-year 1980, but no later than Summer 1981, Dixon made a concert appearance using bassist Miroslav Vitous. The event was produced by impresario Esio Saba, whom BD met in June 1980. Saba subsequently produced Dixon events (for the fall, 1981 tour—and this concert, in the Italian town of “Senegalia”. Dixon was at that time in Italy to prepare the materials for the Labyrinth production.

C-059
p. 248
R80-0617
It is believed that this planned concert ultimately did not materialize.

C-060
p. 254
R81-0524
CORRECTION: The second bold cross-reference in the notes section means to indicate R81-0516.

C-061
p. 256
cross-reference to *”R94-1109” should instead read “R94-1110”

C-062
p. 258
R81-1108
ADDITIONAL BIBLIOGRAPHIC CITATION:
Cadence February 1982, p. 62 shows this as BD’s first concert in Switzerland.

C-063
p. 261
R82-0415
See also C-series addendum relating to p. 100 and 89, supra.

C-064
p. 270
R84-0602
CORRECTION: The filmmaker’s name is of course Ebba Jahn

C-065
p. 271
84-0899
should be re-identified as 84-0527
per announcement in “Artists Alliance Jazz Series” New York Amsterdam News May 19, 1984, p.26

C-066
p. 280
R86-1010
Cross reference to * “68-0916” should instead point to page 134.

C-067
p. 294
R89-1099
Can we find the date?

C-068
p. 295
R90-0314
first line of notes should read “Dixon’s trio appeared as part of...”

C-069
p. 302
R90-1130
R86-1010 cross reference to * “68-0916” should instead point to page 134.

C-070
p. 304
R91-0719
Personnel list omits Arne Forsum (piano)

C-071
p. 306
R92-0301
Fourth sentence should begin: “Dixon announced at the concert that only the first half of ...”

C-071a
p. 308
R92-0625
because of rain on the day of the events, the venue was changed from the published Teatro Romano to Teatro Nuovo

C-072
p. 308
R92-0701
timings:
49:51
6:10
3:46
1:01— While Taylor plays at the piano.
Dixon spoken only, gives the benediction for the concert: “I met this man in 1951, to set the dates straight, back in New York.”

C-073
p. 314
R94-0520
Zappa should be listed on bass clarinet and not on baritone saxophone.

C-074
p. 317
94-1118 and R94-1120
Kolkowski’s first name should be spelled “Aleks”. For the same entries, the cellist’s name should be corrected to “Zimmerli”

C-075
p. 318
R95-0225
second bold entry in notes should read “R94-0715”.

SINCE Dixonia

C-076
R98-0623
June 22–23, 1998 Studio MuRec: Milano
Bill Dixon (trumpet and fluegelhorn); Tony Oxley (drums, percussion)

Essay di Larry Neal SN 121308
Papyrus --
The Statesman --
Indirizzo: Via Cimarosa Sei --
Scribbles --
Ritratto di Allen Polite --
Cinnamon --
Quadro di Henry Dumas --
Palimpsest --
Steps --
Sine Qua Non # 1 --
Quadro di N.H. Pritchard --
Silver Point: Jeanne Phillips SN 121338
Papyrus # 2 --
Pyxis --
Squares --
Epigraphy --
Sine Qua Non # 2 --
Couplet --
Four VI: 1998 --
Crawlspace --
Suri-Mono: Louise Wade --

released on CD only: Soul Note 121308-2 as Papyrus Volume I
Soul Note 121338-2 as Papyrus Volume II

Order in which these tracks are listed reflects that on the released CDs and likely does not have a relationship to the sequence of recording.

C-077
R98-0910
September 10, 1998 Stadtgarten: Köln
Bill Dixon (trumpet); Phil Wachsmann (violin, electronics); Derek Bailey (guitar); Gavin Bryars (bass); Tony Oxley (d); Matt Wand (electronics)

untitled 38:09

Dixon appeared as a special guest in this formation, which had been arrived at as an updating of the original Joseph Holbrooke group, convened on the same bill for this WDR-supported series of performances relating to Tony Oxley’s 60th birthday. See also next.

C-078
R98-0911
September 11, 1998 Stadtgarten: Köln
Bill Dixon (trumpet, conductor) with Tony Oxley Celebration Orchestra: Johannes Bauer (trombone); Ernst-Ludwig Petrowsky (alto saxophone, clarinet); Hayden Chisholm, Frank Gratkowski (alto saxophone); Aleks Kolkowski (violin); Phil Wachsmann (violin, electronics); Peter Koch, Alfred Zimmerli (cello); Phil Minton (voice); Sven-Åke Johansson (accordion and voice), Jochen Büttner, Mark Nauseef, Tony Oxley, Jo Thönes (d); Pat Thomas (keyboards and electronics); Matt Wand (electronics)

Paradigm 1998: Köln 47:33

composed by Bill Dixon for this occasion

C-079
R99-1108
November 8, 1999 Podewil: Berlin
Bill Dixon (trumpet, fluegelhorn); Klaus Koch, Matthias Bauer (bass); Tony Oxley (drums)

Berlin Abbozzi FMP CD110
-Currents
-Open Quiet / The Orange Bell
Acrolithes --

FMP CD 110 titled Berlin Abbozzi.
The occasion for this concert was a decennial commemoration of the dismantling of the Berlin Wall. The Podewil concert event featuring groups of Dixon and Cecil Taylor was added on in this spirit as a special joint attraction sponsored by FMP’s Total Music Meeting and the Berlin Jazztage festival.

C-080
R00-0527
May 2000 New Age Cabaret: 23 St. Marks Pl.: NYC
Vision Festival V
BD (trumpet, conductor); with The Vision Orchestra:
Roy Campbell, Stephen Haynes, Taylor Ho Bynum, Raphe Malik (trumpet); Jeff Hoyer, Steve Swell (trombone); Bill Lowe (bass trombone); Joseph Daley (tuba); Karen Borca (bassoon); Rob Brown, Sabir Mateen (tenor saxophone); Will Connell (bass clarinet); Stephen Horenstein (tenor saxophone and baritone saxophone); Scott Currie (baritone saxophone); J.D. Parran (alto clarinet and bass saxophone); Glynis Lomon, Julia Kent (cello); John Blum (piano); Klaus Janek and Wilber Morris (bass); Jackson Krall (drums); Warren Smith (vibes, timpani)

Index 55:13

Commissioned for Vision Festival V
This performance used 6 of the 26 composed sections of the work. In alphabetic order, they were D, H, O, P, Z, A
Rehearsalas for the event on April 29 and May 13 were also recorded.

discussed copiously in Frank Rubolino “Bill Dixon: The OFN Interview” One Final Note October 2002

C-081
R02-0519
May 19, 2002 Colisee des Bois-Francs
Victoriaville, Quebec: CANADA
Festival International du Music
Actuelle de Victoriaville

BD (trumpet); Cecil Taylor (piano); Tony Oxley (drums)

B + T + C
T ÷ C x B
C x B x T x T

Victo CD 082 titled Cecil Taylor –Bill Dixon –Tony Oxley

discussed copiously in Frank Rubolino “Bill Dixon: The OFN Interview” One Final Note October 2002
Dixon’s appearance in a press conference the afternoon of the performance is also discussed in “What Price Criticism: Bill Dixon at Victoriaville” esse Number 47.

C-082
R02-0920
September 20, 2002 Vienna
BD (trumpet, fluegelhorn); Evan Parker (soprano and tenor saxophones); John Lindberg (bass); Warren Smith (drums)

Dixon had planned to include bassist Wilber Morris instead and may have been announced thus. Morris’s death in mid-2002 led to the decision to have Lindberg instead.
substantively discussed in Frank Rubolino “Bill Dixon: The OFN Interview” One Final Note October 2002.

C-083
R02-1025
October 25 and 26 Cite de la Musique: Paris
Bill Dixon (trumpet); Cecil Taylor (piano); and Tony Oxley (drums)

C-084
August 15, 2003 Tonic: NYC
*scheduled Tonic appearance for the Festival of New Trumpet Music with a quartet did not occur due to blackout aftermath
commuted to R04-0831.

C-085
R04-0831
August 31, 2004 John Birks Gillespie Theater,
Ba’hai Center: NYC
Tony Widoff (electronic keyboards); Dominic Duval (bass); Warren Smith (drums)

first set:
17:12
21:50
BD spoken interlude

second set:
27:39
16:10
10:44
BD spoken postlude

presented by the Festival of New Trumpet Music

C-086
R04-1016 Donaueschingen Musiktage, Germany
October 16, 2004
Bill Dixon (trumpet); Cecil Taylor (piano); and Tony Oxley (drums)
Dixon’s discussion of this and the two subsequent performances of this trio appears in discussed in Bill Dixon “The Benefits of the Struggle” All About Jazz June 1, 2005 Note that the durable internet version of this article contains somewhat more information than ran in the edited All About Jazz: New York print version.

BD solo 28:38

C-087
R04-1113
November 13, 2004 Auditorio da Universidade do Miaho
Porto, Portugal
Guimaraes Jazz Festival

Bill Dixon (trumpet); Cecil Taylor (piano); and Tony Oxley (drums)

C-088
R04-1115 London Royal Festival Hall—
November 15, 2004 London Jazz Festival
Bill Dixon (trumpet); Cecil Taylor (piano); and Tony Oxley (drums, electronics)

Oxley Solo 16:57
BD solo 8:06
BD solo 5:08
Trio 32:47

broadcast in edited form omitting solos by Oxley and Dixon; temporarily available on BBC website

A week’s residency in Wesleyan encompassed Dixon’s composing for orchestra and the following public manifestations:
C-089
R05-0211
February 11, 2005 Crowell Concert Hall: Wesleyan Univ., CT
Bill Dixon conducting the Wesleyan Creative Music Orchestra:
Taylor Ho Bynum (cornet); Nale Ash-Morgan (trombone); Zara Acosta, Angela Opell (clarinet); David Kadden (oboe/english horn); Andrew Raffo Dewar (soprano saxophones); Adam Tinkle (alto saxophone); Matt Bauder (tenor saxophone); Jonathan Chen (violin); Josh Bryant, Nick Nauman, Jessada Wharton (guitar); Luke Mecklenburg (lap steel guitar); Amy Crawford, Max Heath, Jessica Kellar (piano); Andrew Lafkas, Carl Testa (bass); Jennifer Caputo (timpani); Aaron Siegel (vibraphone); David Jensenius (computer); Joe Mariglio (closed feedback loop circuitry); Philip Schulze (live electronics); Anne Rhodes (voice)

36:13

the Saturday morning before Dixon’s trumpet solo included his participation in a panel discussion on the “State of Improvised Music” featuring Ran Blake, Anthony Braxton, Dixon, and Francesco Martinelli.

C-090
R05-0212
February 12, 2005 Crowell Concert Hall
BD (trumpet) unaccompanied

2:43
5:24
5:28
12:10

Dixon’s performance, titled the Art of the Solo, was dedicated to the late Allen Polite and Gordon Parks. Dixon’s program note along these lines addresses specifically some of the issues relating to the piece and his solo work at large.
Pianist Ran Blake also performed unaccompanied on the same bill.

All three of the above episodes were streamed live via the wesleyan.edu website.

C-091
R05-0604
June 4, 2005 Canadian Center for Architecture: Montreal
BD (trumpet) unaccompanied brief solo
Part of the “Project on Improvisation” conference sponsored by McGill University exposition on and by Dixon involving his visual art works, solo trumpetry, and discussions of both.
announced in Paul Serralheiro “Exploring Improvisation Between in the Arts” La Scena Musicale [internet journal] Vol 10, No. 8 May 14, 2005
discussed in Bill Dixon “The Benefits of the Struggle” All About Jazz June 1, 2005. Note that the durable internet version of this article may contain somewhat more information than ran in the edited All About Jazz: New York print version.

C-092
R05-0617
June 17, 2005 Angel Orensanz Foundation
Vision Festival X
BD (trumpet); Stephen Horenstein (barsx); Tony Widoff (electronic keyboards); Andrew Lafkas (bass); Warren Smith (drums)

43:54

C-093
R05-0799
Summer 2005 Hudson, NY
BD (trumpet) + Tony Widoff elp and synthesizer

at least one visit possibly even before R05-0617
one example selected for broadcast 2005 runs 16:27

Further information about these sessions, their precursors, and the beginnings of Widoff’s involvement in Dixon’s music are in “The Dixon Society: Anthony Widoff” http://thedixonsociety.blogspot.com/2007/07/anthony-widoff.html.
also mentioned in Bill Dixon “The Benefits of the Struggle” All About Jazz June 1, 2005 Note that the durable internet version of this article contains somewhat more information than ran in the edited All About Jazz: New York print version.

C-094
R05-0802
August 2, 2005 The Jazz Standard: NYC
BD (trumpet); Glynis Lomon (cello); and Borah Bergman (piano)

45:40

Dixon’s second appearance within the Festival of New Trumpet Music (see also R04-0831)

C-095
R05-0920
September 20, 2005 Angel Orensanz Foundation
BD solo trumpet

spoken preamble 3:02
trumpet solo 5:35

Dixon spoke and played briefly in this Arts-for-Art benefit for survivors of Hurricane Katrina

C-096
R05-1015
October 15, 2005 Earl Hall: Columbia Univ.
BD trumpet unaccompanied

part of a presentation on the sources of Dixon’s visual art, with reference to his music.

C-097
R05-1016
October 16, 2005 The Stone: NYC
BD (trumpet, fluegelhorn); Henry Grimes (bass)

Occurring as part of a decennial commemoration of the death of Don Cherry, the concert’s two sets were titled and respectively.

first set “Gifts for Don Cherry” (8pm)
15:21
14:44
12:17
BD spoken address to audience
7:44

second set “Don Cherry’s Gifts” (10pm)
22:40
8:32
20:10
BD spoken address to audience
11:56

as part of a series curated in remembrance of Don Cherry, ten years after his death.

C-098
R05-1119
November 19, 2005 Quebec City, Canada
BD (trumpet, unaccompanied on –1); Michel Côté (contrabass clarinet, maikotron, percussion); Pierre Côté (cello, bass); Alexandre Gregg (piano)

soundcheck solo –1 0:53
ensemble soundcheck 9:54
solo –1 8:09
Marine (in 5 movements) 23:58

C-099
R06-0121
January 21, 2006 Pompidou Center: Paris
BD (trumpet); Joe Giardullo (tenor saxophone, soprano saxophone); Warren Smith (timpani, vibraphone, percussion)

62:00
3:02 (encore)

C-100
R06-0615
June 15, 2006 Angel Orensanz Foundation: NYC

BD (trumpet); with George Lewis (trombone, electronics)

49:30

The event included visual projections arranged by Lewis and using some of Dixon’s visual images.

C-101
R06-0908
September 8, 2006 St. George’s Anglican Ch.: Guelph, Ontario
BD (trumpet); Joelle Leandre (bass) Guelph Jazz Festival

52:44

A September 7 workshop was scheduled: Did BD take part?

C-102
R07-0620
June 20, 2007 Angel Orensanz Foundation: NYC
Vision Festival XI
BD (trumpet, cond); Stephen Haynes (trumpet); Graham Haynes, Taylor Ho Bynum (cornet); Steve Swell, Dick Griffin (trombone); Joseph Daley (tuba); Karen Borca (bassoon); Andrew Raffo Dewar (soprano saxophone); John Hagen (alto saxophone); Will Connell (clarinet and alto saxophone); J.D. Parran (bass saxophone); Michel Côté (contrabass clarinet and bass clarinet); Glynis Lomon (cello); Andrew Lafkas (bass); Warren Smith (timpani, drums); Jackson Krall (drums)

recording released on AUM Fidelity AOM 046as 17 Musicians In Search of a Sound: Darfur

Prelude
Intrados
In Search of A Sound
Contour One Contour Two
Scattering of the Following
Darfur
Contour Three
Sinopia
Pentimento I
Pentimento II
Pentimento III
Pentimento IV

Performance preparations included rehearsals on the two prior days and the midday before this evening concert.

C-103
R07-0711
July 11, 2007 Ganz Hall: Chicago
Chicago Jazz Festival
BD (trumpet); Ken Vandermark (reeds); Josh Abrams, Nate McBride (bass); Michael
Zerang (drums)

Vandermark reports in his blogs of the period that the ensemble rehearsed on July 10 in preparation for this appearance. http://www.kenvandermark.com/notes_field.php?notes_id=59

C-104
R07-0901
September 1 and 3, 2007 Electrical Audio Studio: Chicago
Bill Dixon (trumpet, conductor) with Exploding Star Orchestra:
Josh Berman, Rob Mazurek (cornet); Jeb Bishop (trombone); Nicole Mitchell (flutes, voice); Matt Bauder (bass clarinet, tenor saxophone); Jim Baker (piano); Jason Ajemian (double bass); Matthew Lux (bass guitar); Jeff Parker (guitar); John Herndon (drums); Mike Reid (drums, timpani); Jason Adasiewicz (vibraphone, tubular bells); Damon Locks (voice)

Entrances / One Thrill Jockey 192
Constellations for Innerlight --
Entrances / Two --

Thrill Jockey 192 titled Bill Dixon With Exploding Star Orchestra

Tracks are listed here in their play sequence on the CD. Exact order of the performance is not known. The first and third pieces were composed by Bill Dixon, the middle one by Mazurek, using as score stills from his own graphic presentation. Sharon Vogel reports that “Constellations...” was composed in tribute to Bill Dixon prior to the beginning of these sessions.

C-105
R07-0902
September 2, 2007 Petrillo Bandshell: Grant Park Chicago
Chicago Jazz Festival
Bill Dixon (trumpet) with Exploding Star Orchestra:
Josh Berman, Rob Mazurek (cornet); Jeb Bishop (trombone); Nicole Mitchell (flutes, voice); Matt Bauder (bass clarinet, tenor saxophone); Jim Baker (piano); Jason Ajemian (double bass); Matthew Lux (bass guitar); Jeff Parker (guitar); John Herndon (drums); Mike Reid (drums, timpani); Jason Adasiewicz (vibraphone, tubular bells); Damon Locks (voice)

C-106
R07-0933
September 2007 Ste. Petronille Church: Quebec City
BD (trumpet); Michel Côté (reeds); Pierre Côté (cello, bass)

4:33
7:30
14:17
17:45
4:27
3:21
3:22
4:25
2:55

Recording session(s) in this church

C-108
R08-0708
July 8–10, 2008 Firehouse 12: New Haven
Dixon (trumpet and electronics): Taylor Ho Bynum (cornet, flugelhorn, bass and piccolo trumpets); Graham Haynes (cornet, fluegelhorn, and electronics); Stephen Haynes (trumpet, cornet, and fluegelhorn); Rob Mazurek (cornet, electronics); Glynis Lomon (cello); Michel Côté (contrabass clarinet, bass clarinet); Ken Filiano (double bass, electronics); and Warren Smith (vibraphone, marimba, drums, tympani and gongs).

–1: omit Côté and brass other than Dixon

Motorcycle ’66 reflections and Ruminations 13:30
Slivers: Sand Dance for Sophia 9:20
Phrygian II 16:04
Adagio: Slow Mauve Scribblings 17:30

Allusions I –1 9:08
Tapestries 12:29
Durations of Permanence 14:45
Innocenza 16:02

These performances and documentary session footage on DVD released 2009 on Firehouse 12 label as Tapestries for Small Orchestra.
Tracks listed in CD play order.

See also substantial narration of the unfolding of this series of projects in http://stephenhaynes.blogspot.com/2007/03/bill-dixon-chamber-orchestra-vision.html et seq.

See also http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPyg7VtMCUM
for the first published excerpt of the audio/video presentation.

C-109
Summer/Fall 2008 New England
BD (trumpet); Ben Hall(drums); Aaron Siegel (vibes, timpani, drums)

13:00
17:00
15:00
18:00

all times approximate
recorded for release on Broken Research

C-110
September 6, 2008 Lodz, Poland
This scheduled appearance Sept. 6, 2008 with Exploding Star Orchestra did not materialize.

C-111
November 1, 2008 Frankfurt Jazz Festival
Dixon did not take part in this scheduled appearance Nov. 1, 2008 with Exploding Star Sextet.

C-112
R09-0809
August 9, 2009 Anfiteatro ao Ar Livre,
Gulbenkian Foundation, Lisbon
Jazz Em Agosto series:
Bill Dixon with Exploding Star Orchestra: personnel derived from the orchestra on
R07-0901.

PLAYED BY OTHERS

C-113
p. 322
O61-0115
“Brewer” likely should be Breuer”

C-114
p. 323
O64-0395
CORRECTION: Notes refer to “64-0204” which is meant instead to indicate “R64-0204”

C-115
p. 334
U59-0000
The Future of Jazz panel discussion mentioned in the 5th paragraph here took place on June 26, 1959, according to materials held in the John Benson Brooks archive at the Institute of Jazz Studies, which include an audio recording of a fraction of those proceedings.

Garbled language at the end of 3d paragraph on p. 335 means to say that Dixon’s decision to leave the UNJS was driven by these factors.
also
ADD BIBLIOGRAPHIC CITATION: UNJS Article in Cincinnati Enquirer May 25, 1959, p. refers to the early days of the UNJS. Likely builds on the AP article filed by William Otis, as described on page 393.

C-116
p. 337
U60-0531
ADD BIBLIOGRAPHIC CITATION: “UN Jazz Society Digs Monk, Giuffre Groups” Raleigh _________ June 7, 1960, p. 16.

C-117
p. 342
U64-0615
completing the citation to Campbell’s first edition of The Earthly...: This info is on p. ___. Parallel citation in the revised edition, p _______.

C-118
p. 347
U64-1004
Valdo Williams’s trio for this engagement included Jimmie Stevenson on bass and Barry Altschul on drums.
The appearance of a Lowell Davidson group including Michael Mantler is also supported by Mantler’s notes to the Jazz Realities LP, Fontana 880 010.

C-119
p. 349
“The Guild”
A complementary reading of these details is given by Archie Shepp during his interview with Ben Sidran in Black Talk.

C-120
p. 350
U64-1023
Don DeMicheal mentions in a down beat article of ca. December 5, 1964 that David Izenzon took part in this event.

C-121
p. 351
U64-1025
ADD BIBLIOGRAPHIC CITATION: UNJS “Jazz Around Town” Bulletin also lists this event.

C-122
p. 354–55
U64-1228 et seq:
Note the following rubric for nightly presentations at the Four Days in December
a) Before the concert, a preamble discussion between the musicians and the audience, allowing that audience members could remain anonymous as they wished;
b) the performance;
c) post-mortem discussion of the performance, with same parameters as in a);
d) further discussion, extrapolating—for the first time, in such contexts—to candid discussion of social identities from the audience and the performers

C-123
p. 355
U64-1231
The recording survives for the New York Art Quartet performance that closed the series, incl.
“Old Stuff” [later known as ‘Yankee No How’]
“Rosmosis”
“A _______ [A Tchicai piece referred to elsewhere as “#4”]
and [John’s Line] apparently referred to on a subsequent occasion as “Uh Oh”

C-124
p. 358
U65-0116 et seq.
Michael Mantler’s notes to the Jazz Realities LP, Fontana 880 010 place him in at least one of the performances at the Cellar by the Paul Bley small groups that played there. This should turn out to be one or more of the following: U65-0116, U65-0129, U65-0214, U65-0229, U65-0402.

C-125
p. 363
65-0309
Omitted from the Dixonia entry is information that this concert involved mainly the Cecil Taylor Unit (Jimmy Lyons, Michael Mantler, Reggie Workman, and Andrew Cyrille) in addition to this solo piano performance of what was called “Careful Softshoe”.
Also reviewed in Martin Williams “Caught in the Act” down beat May 9, 1965, p.36. This entry cites as well to the names of the pieces

C-126
p. 366
U65-0409
Sabino’s photos of the weekend’s events indicate that Kenyatta, Lyons, and McIntyre played only on BD’s piece and not the nearby Carla Bley performance(s).
This citation in Dixonia neglected to mention that the two of the pieces recorded at this event (Saturday, April 10, 1965) were used in the first Jazz Composers’ Orchestra LP, Fontana 880 011

C-127
p. 367
U65-0416
The full name of the Haines tape is “An All-Ethnic Electric Program”

C-128
p. 367
“Newport 65”
CLARIFICATION: The panel discussion mentioned here occurred at Fordham University. Appearing as part of it were Wein, Nat Hentoff, Archie Shepp, Mort Fega, and others, moderated by Father Norman O’Connor. Dixon was not on the panel but spoke from the audience. A transcript of the panel discussion appeared in Jazz and Pop.

C-129
p. 368
“Savoy”
ADDITIONAL BIBLIOGRAPHIC CITATION: The three Savoy projects of Spring 1967 are mentioned in the press announcement in “3 Savoy Sessions produced by Dixon” Billboard June 24, 1967, p. 7.

C-130
p. 371
U69-1009
“Cevera Jeffries”, is the correct spelling of the bassist’s name.

C-131
p. 376
X60-0999
should be re-identified as:
X61-0723 Merryall Community Center: New Milford, CT
weekend of July 23, 1961
Lecture on the “Anatomy of Contemporary Jazz” using recorded examples.

C-132
p. 376
X61-0397
Jazz Arts Society
see also new additions in the performance section (supra) of this compendium of corrigenda:
61-0315, 61-0322, and 61-0323 C-010 through C-012

C-133
p. 378
X63-0899
ttp://www.archive.org/stream/kpfkfolio8211964kpfkrich/kpfkfolio8211964kpfkrich_djvu.txt reports that the 11/9/63-aired From The Musician’s Point of View interview with Teo Macero was to be rebroadcast June 20, 1964 on KPFK in San Francisco

C-134
to add:
X99-1121
November 21, 1999 Sista’s Place: Brooklyn

Dixon was interviewed by Ahmed Abdullah and lectured in the series curated at this venue.

C-135
p. 383
Fall 1971 BME members: Henry Letcher in fact did not take part.

Justin Perdue 27 Sep 2009 8:03 PM (15 years ago)

Guitarist and visual artist Justin Perdue was kind enough to answer our questions regarding Bill Dixon, Bill Dixon's ensemble class, the Bennington College music division as a whole and more. Thank you Justin Perdue!

+ + +

Q: When and where did you first hear the music of Bill Dixon.

A: I may have heard some (without realizing who it was) previously, but the first time I deliberately listened was during my first term at Bennington - the first time I really heard Dixon's music - was doing some listening with some of the "usual suspects." It was the Thoughts album and it knocked me out - think we listened to it twice or more in one sitting. It was like some strange deja vu - as if I'd finally had a music from a dream: Something I'd been expecting to hear, something that seemed innately right and made sense to me on an intuitive, instinctual level (similar to hearing Trane or Bird for first time). It resonated with me. Not to trivialize the music, but the sensation was akin to that of tasting a Cuban cigar or a great wine or dessert for the first time - as in:Ahhhh, so this is what it supposed to be like...

Whatever the case, I had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of bassist Jeremy Harlos around this time - he was working w/Dixon ensembles, and had other Dixon recordings which he hipped me to. Had similar reactions to my "Thoughts" episode upon initially hearing Intents and Purposes and Son of Sysiphus - that latter of which probably impacted my playing/conception the most at the time and for years following.

Q: What was your musical background at that point? What else were you listening to at the time?

A: I grew up being more exposed to visual art than music, my father being a sculptor. I always had an appetite for music though, and early on sifted through theirLPs on got into Beatles and other sundry folky stuff like Donovan and Pete Seeger (of all things) as a kid (typical early 70s kid-fare, I s'pose ...). Took up the trumpet in grade school, but remained largely unexposed to jazz. Do recall that the school band had painfully poor intonation, and I could scarcely bear to endure our rehearsals/concerts. Not sure my intonation on the horn was much better, but I could definitely hear that something was quite wrong with the band: We were trying to play Sousa stuff that ended up sounding closer to Harry Partch. It was chorus class which really cemented my desire to do music - my teacher did a lot to encourage/challenge me, singling me out for (what seemed at the time to be) bizarre exercises like singing in a different key than she was accompanying in, singing in different keys than the rest of the chorus, etc. Right off the bat I was comfortable with this kind of pan-tonality, and never found it odd, grating or "off-key" - likely an early indicator of my future musical tastes...

Anyway, perhaps the band experience was part of what led me to quit the horn and take up guitar when I was 12 - it was certainly easier to keep in tune. Certainly my interest in Beatles, etc. contributed. I started out learning basics and moved on to the rock/folk stuff I was listening too. By the time I got to Bennington, I'd had had some composition training in classical (12-tone, Schoenberg-type stuff mostly), several years of classical guitar training, and the typical guitarist's high-school garage-band background of the time in "blues," psychedelic/progressive rock, etc.

I'd become frustrated by the harmonic/stylistic limitations of rock guitar by the time I got off the boat at Bennington. Was more interested in finding ways to get some of the "avant-garde" classical music ideas I'd been exposed top out of the guitar, but to have it infused with energy/passion/rhythm - not the antiseptic/clinical feel I'd gotten from much of the atonal classical music. So, needless to say, I had big ears for "jazz" and was listening to everything in the genre that I could once at Bennington - from Art Tatum to Cecil Taylor - but initially gravitated towards Miles and Trane (early-mid quartet - through Love Supreme). Dixon's music fit right in - just the kind of sounds and conception that I wanted to hear...

Q: What made you choose Bennington College? Was it the music program? Did you intend to study music when you arrived?

A: I arrived at Bennington intending to study music and painting (leaning more towards music) - I was particularly eager to become more immersed in "jazz" as I'd been exposed to a lot more in the way of visual art, given that my father is a sculptor and (visual arts) educator. I spent some time with bassist Jeremy Harlos on my college visit to Bennington - got some sense of the music program from him, seeing a group he was in play, and got to meet some of the other musicians studying there - all of which left me with a positive impression, a sort of simpatico feeling. I didn't meet Dixon or Brooks on this visit, but just students. The politics of the music dept's "divisions" (i.e. black music/white music weren't apparent to me during the visit). I was intrigued by the "Black Music" side of the music program that I gained some insight into during my visit - recall that it was the visit and meeting the cats studying the music that (began to) open my eyes to what could be studied at Bennington - don't recall getting such a compelling sense of it from the catalog/printed materials I'd seen prior to that. Anyway, probably on account of the visit and the sense of the "Black Music dept" the scales tipped enough towards Bennington's music program to make a difference. Other schools I'd looked at like Oberlin & Wesleyan had left me nonplussed - these seemed more classically-oriented; Ithaca struck me as very formulaic-jazz oriented kind of a liberal arts Berklee. Suppose I was more interested in rebelling against the "tyranny of the bar line and triad" (to paraphrase Dixon) at the time - and Bennington seemed more the place for that kind of thinking...

Q: Setting Dixon and your work with him aside, what were some of the other music classes you remember taking? What were the high-points? Did any of these classes inform or support your work with Dixon?

A: Being a "music major" at Bennington (at least during the political climate present there in the late 80s) I had to take the requisite assortment of non-Black Music classes in the music dept. This involved the usual gamut of composition, history and theory classes. Such requirements became a bone of some contention at the time - questions were being raised as to why couldn't one study exclusively "Black Music" to fulfill music major requirements, etc - generally it was an ugly situation, and not a particularly healthy learning environment. Various (thinly veiled) political agendas were in play constantly - it was next to impossible not to get caught in the crossfire, and there were certainly a few casualties. So, in a roundabout way of answering this question - yes, there were some high points, but also too much wheel-spinning on politics and areas of study that didn't seem (and still don't, in hindsight) terribly relevant. So, enough about that.

After enduring some of the requisite classes with "shrubby" I managed to settle in to doing much of my officially sanctioned composition work with Allen Shawn, who was very supportive of my Black Music studies, and my incorporation of the "jazz idiom" into my compositions. My composition "process" involved essentially "transcribing" music in my head - in many ways the same music I would have improvised. Stylistically or idiomatically it was all music to me, improvised or written down. Other highlights for me were hearing Shawn's "readings" of my compositions - to hear the music realized on piano, etc. Also, though (regrettably) I didn't manage to study directly with him, listening to Lionel Nowak play on several occasions was definitely a learning experience.

Q: Tell us a little about Dixon's ensemble class and your participation in it. How long were classes? How were they structured? Was there written music or did you "just improvise?" Also, what was the level and kind of musicianship in the ensemble? Were the players coming from a "Jazz" background? Where they coming from a "classical" background?

A: Ensemble classes with Dixon were a trip. A real adventure. Classes could begin with Dixon arriving and regaling us with colorful "jazz history" anecdotes out of Dixon's past about how "the man was fuckin' with my [archie shepp's] mind," surreal diatribes about African cross-hatched chicken, or possibly an explanation to a student as to the importance of "getting to the point where you can wear a hat." Or, the ensemble might arrive to find Dixon already there, intently the midst of playing his horn, whereupon we'd set up quietly and begin playing along. Sometimes the bulk of the class would be passed in this manner, Dixon communicating and teaching with the music and few gestures and glances - we might not actually get to talking until the end of the class, after an hour or so of playing... Classes often ran over when the music was happening - several hours with little or no discussion until the very end was not uncommon. This latter was often this case during the time I was in the ensemble class along with a group of other players that were largely on the same level of playing, played together consistently outside of class, and were generally on the same page. I think in that ensemble, most of the players were pretty immersed in the music that we were working on with Dixon - most had come from a background of some formal training in jazz or classical, but at the time were focused almost exclusively on improvised (and other music) akin to what was going down in the ensemble class.

There were certainly periods where we worked on written/structured pieces, sometimes part of a class was devoted to this, sometimes all of it. There were written/structured pieces that were rehearsed for concerts, where Dixon brought in some of his collaborators to augment the ensemble class. Classwork also consisted of "exercises" - working in specific, narrowly defined textures, etc. A classic Dixon exercise that comes to mind: "play a unison line with me" - after which he'd play a blistering line that spanned the range of the horn and the whole gamut of dynamics, densities and micro-tonalities, with the expectation that a student (or perhaps some/all of the ensemble) would play along, "note for note." definitely got me thinking about some outside the box guitar techniques. overall, Dixon's ensemble classes - and how he had me participate in them - did a lot to open up my thinking about the possibilities of the guitar texturally and orchestrally, blurring the lines between soloist and rhythm instrument, yet also nurturing my conception of how the guitar could be more like a horn; more linear and less percussive/chordal...

Q: Lionel Nowak is someone readers of The Dixon Society will remember as being sympathetic to Dixon's aesthetic, and now we have the name Alan Shawn. How did the rest of the music faculty deal with Bill Dixon's music? For those who didn't deal with it particularly well, what musical reasons (if any) did they give?

A: Apart from Arthur Brooks (who was obviously many orders of magnitude closer to and involved with Dixon's music, having actually studied, performed & recorded with Dixon), Nowak and Shawn seemed the most respectful of Dixon's music. Several others (deeply embroiled in the Music Dept's twisted internal politics) were openly hostile to Dixon and his music. Otherwise, there seemed a general lack of any real grasp of what Dixon had done and could teach with regards to composition. Also, it seemed his unorthodox playing techniques was met with scorn or plain bewilderment by some. Here's a good example of the breadth of the gulf of opinion as to what constituted good technique: one of the composition teachers, who was a ("classically-trained") bassist not only dismissed Paul Chambers' playing as "out of tune" but also ridiculed Art Davis for the way he used his left hand pinky while playing. Needless to say, said bassist didn't approve of Dixon's playing either. I'm not really sure what the musical reasons for this type of thing was - apart from some kinda "my way or the highway" rationale...

Q: How was Bill Dixon perceived by the non-musical faculty and student body? Were his concerts well received? Was his work respected? Was he respected?

A: Dixon and his music were either embraced or eschewed by the non-combatants outside the music division - it was hit or miss, all or nothing: people either heard it or they didn't. It was an acquired taste that few seemed to labor much to acquire if they didn't like it from the git-go. I think a number of students and faculty alike were a bit intimidated by Dixon. He was definitely not viewed as a wallflower by anyone that I can recall. Come to think of it, I think many were intimidated by his music as well - and in response, some rejected it outright as too abstract or far out, others blindly championed it for the very same reasons, and (perhaps most interestingly) some faced up to the unknown and really tried to come to terms with it, gradually digesting it over several semesters (or years).

Q: You play guitar and Bill Dixon plays the trumpet. Was there a guitar teacher at Bennington college at the time? Did Bill Dixon ever give you a "guitar" lesson? What was Bill's relationship to the guitar? Did he ever tell you specifically what he wanted out of you as a guitar player, or were you left on your own to "learn by doing?"

A: "Learn by Doing" was definitely a big aspect of guitar playing there at the time. There was a cat Matt Henderson there for a while (early during my stay, maybe freshman of sophomore year, before I was heavily involved with Dixon ensembles) - he came out of a Robert Fripp approach to the guitar, which I was already familiar with to some extent. Matt did a lot to help me along the "Learn by Doing" path - helping me think of how I could develop exercises for myself, etc. He was also supportive in my switching to tuning the guitar in fourths, which necessitated the development of my own exercises, and ironically forced me to be self-taught ever since. So, I created my own exercises, voicings and scale patterns - and (at the urging or Dixon and Brooks) got my hands on Andrew White's Trane transcriptions. Also got into Nicholas Slonimsky's "Thesaurus of Scales and Melodic Patterns" (all of which I'm still digesting and working on)...

Dixon's "guitar lessons" often revolved around the "play a unison line with me" approach (as I mentioned before), which nudged me into developing some rather unorthodox techniques for speed-picking (for unisons with his ascending runs), scratching of the wound strings, and tremolo/"whammy bar" de-tuning (for non-tempered notes/chords and sub-tones). Dixon also had me play "bass" in various orchestrations, which opened up my thinking about the lower end, and finger/thumb picking. In many respects though, I viewed all of it as a guitar lesson - it was all about finding a way to get the sound that I was hearing, the sound the music wanted. The lesson was that technique was a means to that end, and that one could get there using whatever means possible, however unorthodox they may seem.

Q: What did you do musically after graduating from Bennington College? After graduating from Bennington College and entering the "real world" what did you feel were your musical strengths and your musical weaknesses? Was there something you didn't get out of the Bennington College that you wished you had? Did you feel like your experiences with studying Bill Dixon gave you an "advantage" or unique insights in your musical pursuits?

A: I played a bit in NYC after Bennington - mostly at the Knitting Factory - the "free jazz" scene. Played, recorded and toured with saxophonist Jack Wright after that, and eventually settled into a gig working as an accompanist with the Middlebury College Dance Dept. This was also the beginning of a stint with the So-Called Jazz Sextet, based out of Vermont. We made several recordings and toured through the mid-90's, working with the Dance Dept. periodically.

I think I came out of Bennington with a good sense of the music and it's history, a very focused (and somewhat narrow) idea of what constituted a viable approach to improvisation, a relatively unique technical approach to the guitar, and solid composition & arranging skills. What was lacking? In retrospect, I found myself still "learning" standards and more bebop-oriented styles after Bennington. Not to focus on this was certainly a choice I'd made while there - I'd chosen to immerse myself more in pure improvisation. Post-grad, there certainly were some lean times when having all the Berklee bop chops would've helped out - but, I truly wasn't as interested in "tunes" during that time... Truly, I have only gradually arrived at a real appreciation of bebop and "straight-ahead" playing that evolved out of an initial immersion in and love of "free jazz" (a path that many others seem to traverse in the opposite direction). So as for unique insights/advantages, perhaps that's it: coming at it from a different direction, not being daunted by "learning by doing"/teaching myself on an ongoing basis, approaching the guitar with my own home-brewed techniques, realizing that I'd rather play in my own style (for better or worse) than trot out the coolest licks somebody else just played... Striving to make some honest music that reflects what I'm really hearing/feeling at any given time.

Q: How much of your music now references your experiences studying with Bill Dixon? What's on your musical horizon?

A: Most of it (both consciously and unconsciously). While I don't often find myself literally playing much of anything I'd worked on with Dixon, much of the conceptual underpinning of my playing - and the way I hear music and approach improvisation and guiutar techniques as mentioned above - stems from those studies. I'm mostly working with original compositions at this point, and foresee continuing to do so. These are by and large "tunes" - chord changes, melodies, structure - but, hearkening back to more improvisational approaches, I really view these as vehicles for just that. The level/degree of abstraction upon these forms strikes me as being only limited by what I can hear and technically execute. So, I'm really looking to continue synthesizing influences from Wes Montgomery to Trane to Dixon to Hendrix to James Brown to Monk (...etc...) into my playing and composing - to find the commonalities and transitions between these supposedly disparate "styles", and despite whether or not it neatly fits into some category or another, to bring forth the music that's been informed by all I've heard, imagined, learned and unlearned...

A Social Network Analysis of the Recorded Works of Bill Dixon 17 Apr 2009 3:36 PM (16 years ago)

The Dixon Society would like to invite you all to participate in a social network analysis of the recorded works of Bill Dixon.

The analysis is on Mindmeister.

There is a lot of work that is yet to be done on the chart. Each name should link to an appropriate site. Ideally each person's name should also include their instrument. The Dixon Society will also need help with documenting the personnel of each musician's (relevant) project where they were the leader.

(and by relevant, I mean in the case of multiple projects, lets choose the project where they were the leader had a 'link' to someone directly related to Bill Dixon.)

The Dixon Society is confident that you will quickly figure out how both the chart and the Mindmeister interface works, and we look forward to the unforeseen expansion this chart is sure to enjoy under the open source model!

Andrew Raffo Dewar 30 Mar 2009 2:33 PM (16 years ago)

Many of you know Andrew Raffo Dewar from the beginning moments of Bill Dixon's epic large ensemble release 17 Musicians in Search of a Sound: Darfur. The Dixon Society got to talk to a very busy Mr. Dewar, who recently joined the faculty of the experimental New College at the University of Alabama.

The Dixon Society extends a hearty thank you to Andrew for taking the time to talk with us about Bill Dixon.

+ + +

The Dixon Society: When did you first hear the music of Bill Dixon? What were the circumstances? What did you hear?

Andrew Raffo Dewar: The first recording of BD's work I heard was the LP "Live in Italy, Vol. 2" - I bought it at a Minneapolis record store (the wonderfully named, and now defunct, Oarfolkjokeopus) in the fall of 1993. I bought it because I was familiar with Soul Note as a label, and I thought the cover painting was beautiful. When I bought and heard the album, though, I wasn't ready for it. I'm embarrassed to say so now, but it didn't make a huge impact on me at the time, even though I was already listening carefully and learning immensely from other "parallel" work by Sun Ra, Anthony Braxton, Roscoe Mitchell, Ornette Coleman, etc. (I had already, in high school, been blown away by bebop and the various periods of Coltrane and Miles Davis' work).

This brings up an interesting issue that most of us as music lovers and practitioners have no doubt experienced at some point -- the difference between hearing and listening, and how sometimes we aren't ready to really listen to something - the time isn't right. I think about Anthony Braxton's memories of not liking Coltrane and Parker's music when he first heard it as a small child - his ears weren't ready yet, he had to come to that music at a different time.

So, I was hearing Dixon at that point, but I wasn't *listening*. The first Dixon recording I really listened to was a beat up copy of the 1962 Dixon/Shepp quartet on Savoy that I bought at a record store called Bird's Suite in down town Portland, Oregon, where I lived for a year or so in 1994-95. That recording is beautiful -- the two Dixon compositions really moved me -- especially the intense, driving waltz of "Trio," with the amazingly abstract and rhythmically complex phrasing in the solos. I liked very much the rawness of the performances too -- their willingness to step just beyond what they could "reach" -- that has been an important lesson I am still learning from. I have great respect for and enjoy listening to clean, precise, technical virtuosity, but I am personally more interested in the exploration of the "unknown," the "surprise" -- what happens if I mess with my embouchure here? If I lift this pad just slightly, to allow an overtone or multiphonic to pop out...things like that. The "happy accidents" (I recently heard legendary film director Sidney Lumet talking about these "happy accidents" as a goal in his film making process -- a goal you can't force -- you can only set up a situation in which they might occur...so these things are, of course, being explored in many media).

The "lightning strike" recording of Bill's for me (and for many others, I'm sure) was "Intents and Purposes," which I first heard in 1995 on a cassette dub made by multi-instrumentalist Milo Fine for my friend and colleague, the wonderful percussionist Chad Popple (who is now based in Hamburg). That recording floored me, and really rearranged my ideas of sound and music, and what was possible. The combination of BD's sound-mass ideas for large ensemble, and Iannis Xenakis' concepts (which I was also discovering at the same time) has been one part of the road map for the aesthetic path I'm seemingly on now.

TDS: Are you as a visual artist moved by Dixon's visual art as you (as a musician) are moved by his music?

ARD: I love Bill's visual art, and in fact studied and wrote somewhat extensively about his work in my 2004 MA thesis at Wesleyan University. Though Bill does not like to conflate the two media (which I understand), I think my studies show that there is some conceptual overlap, particularly in the use of "modules" (Dixon's term) of activity in his work. Regarding Bill Dixon's impact on my own visual work, which has been focused on photography, I can't say there has been any direct influence - I'm very much conceptually beholden to the work of Aaron Siskind, perhaps even to the point of being called a "copycat." I just frame images I find interesting. I like finding abstract forms in shadows and everyday surroundings, and when I'm exploring new places.

TDS: Have you always played the soprano saxophone? Who or what led you to that instrument in particular?

ARD: There are several recordings I can single out as having led me, early on, to the soprano saxophone (in the chronological order that I first heard them)-- Pharoah Sanders' soprano solo on Alice Coltrane's "Journey in Satchidananda," (Impulse) Julius Hemphill's solo on "Concere Ntasiah" on the Human Arts Ensemble recording "P*nk J*zz," (Muse) Sidney Bechet's 1939 "Summertime" (Blue Note) , Lucky Thompson's soprano take on "In a Sentimental Mood" from "Lucky Strikes" (Prestige) and Steve Lacy's solo album "Remains." (Hat Art) Of course I had also heard Coltrane's soprano work, which is wonderful, but I have never liked his *sound* on the soprano -- will I go to "jazz hell" for saying that? I like a more open, "Lacy-esque" sound, that I think comes from Lacy's love for Johnny Hodges little-known soprano playing (Hodges had stopped playing the soprano by about 1941). I discovered that later, through Lacy's recommendation, and am convinced it is some of the most beautiful soprano playing on record.

TDS: Could you compare and contrast your large ensemble experiences with Anthony Braxton and Bill Dixon?

ARD: It is difficult to limit this subject to just a few words, but I'll try to be concise by focusing on two issues.

On "Autonomy":

On a structural/social level, Braxton's ensembles function in what he might call a "multi-hierarchical" model -- he often mentions the federal/state government hierarchy as a passable analogy for this, though it's more like a well-intentioned anarchy with a respected elder at the helm.

My two large ensemble experiences thus far with Bill Dixon were a bit more traditional in terms of the delegation of autonomy -- he was the director, we were the players. Each technique results in a very different sound-world, and I think both approaches are important to explore.

One interesting thing is that within those different forms of autonomy, each composer gives a very distinct set of possibilities. With Braxton, you could certainly improvise during the entire performance, as the system does allow for that -- but you'd be silly not to want to play some of the piles of wonderful, challenging music surrounding you! So, the sheer amount of notated material makes for a certain dynamic with regards to what you as an instrumentalist choose to do with your autonomy.

With Bill, on "17 Musicians..." he pointed at me at the beginning of the piece and said, "Play. Now." At that moment, I was completely free to play whatever I could come up with, but whatever it was, I had to do it RIGHT AT THAT MOMENT. During the rehearsal process for the piece, I was asked to play solos, and he let me know immediately if he thought it was on target or not -- this was his way of shaping and preparing me for what he would eventually call upon me to do in the performance for the "prelude" -- though it did take me entirely by surprise, nonetheless! At any rate, it is a very different kind of independence, though equally effective.

On "Reaching for the New":

In addition to personally taking part in two large ensemble pieces of Bill Dixon, I've seen rehearsal video of Dixon going back 25 years, and there are a few techniques I've noticed that he uses that are different than what, for example, Anthony Braxton uses in his ensembles.

Mr. Dixon seems to shape what he would like to happen by asking the musicians to move beyond what they can do through feedback in the rehearsal process -- in one case, going around the room and having everyone do an unaccompanied solo, which he critiqued -- e.g. "That doesn't belong to you, and doesn't belong in this room - try again"...

I've also seen him ask a pianist to turn around and play behind his back -- not for theatrical reasons, but as a pedagogical tool to get the musician to literally turn their back on what they know -- to reverse their thinking and get them to aim for what he has called the "center of a sound." In using this approach, which certainly can be difficult, egoistically, for musicians who either think they know everything, or don't like to be critiqued so openly and publicly, he lets you know that what he's hoping to do is to go for a thing that is not what you do, but what you might be able to do if you let go and reach beyond what you think is possible -- looking for what Braxton might call "the surprise".

Mr. Braxton, in my experience, is less "hands-on" in this process, though he always lets musicians know that they should embrace "surprise" and "mistakes," and not take the easy way out in their musical choices. One way those "surprises," or "new" moments are reached is through the collage techniques he employs, where any musician can introduce a piece at any time, creating many layers of determined indeterminacy (if that makes sense). Another way "the new" is approached in AB's work is through notated material that pushes you beyond your technical limitations (or at least pushes me beyond them, I can't speak for the many virtuosi in his groups!) through the sheer complexity of the music. He also creates "newness" through his use of the "language musics," which are really the sonic building blocks of his entire music system, which can be combined, layered, and multiplied into an infinite number of combinations.

TDS: "How, if at all, do you think Dixon's music is related to Jazz? How if at all, is your music related to Jazz? If neither are (in your opinion) related to Jazz, then what are they related to? What lineage do they come from, and where would that music best sit "in the record store?"

ARD: I absolutely think Bill Dixon's music is part of that continuum (Of course, my opinion on the matter doesn't hold a candle to the cultural capital held in the halls of Lincoln on this subject), though it is not bound by any definition of that tradition by any means! His music is its own world as far as I'm concerned, with many, many degrees of influence and inspiration that make up the aesthetic results. His exploration of timbre on the instrument is without a doubt tied to an aesthetic tradition that includes people like Ellington and his legendary brass section, but his interest in certain varieties of form is related to his enjoyment and study of Webern, Berg, and Elliot Carter's music, but is also equally informed by his visual color aesthetic.

Of course, the question itself is bound up in the snake eating its own tail (Ouroboros) kind of circular argument, because eventually we get back to the "What is Jazz?" foundation question, right? It's something different for everybody that claims the term --- but that's the beauty of it, in my opinion - that flexibility and breadth of expression. I do know that Bill has said on many occasions he wishes his work could just be called "music," without a qualifier.

Regarding my own music -- everything I do at some level is influenced by my idea of Jazz (which is likely broader than the "party line"), and my study and love of that music. That said, I don't think many would put most of what I do in that section of the record store. I try not to let my definition of any kind of music play too much of a role in how I'd like something to sound. In my creative process, I try to come up with ideas, sounds and forms (usually in my head, sometimes with my horn), and then go about bringing those things into the world -- not build a box and then find an idea that fits in it. I prefer to study something deeply and wait for it to percolate out in some other form; for my own music, I'm not so interested in a 1-to-1 mapping of influence and result, if that makes sense. For example, "that's my 'rock' project," or "my 'hip-hop' project" -- don't get me wrong, I love that music, and artists that explore those kinds of approaches, but I think I'm personally better suited to find my own way, cutting up the pieces that make up my collage smaller, so they become a bit more unrecognizable. I definitely go back and forth with this, though -- it's hard sometimes because you feel pressure to refer to or employ techniques and traditions that people (both musicians and audience) are familiar with -- a language they can speak -- but most of the artists' work I really enjoy decide to side-step that and create their own thing. That's not to say I'm successful at this yet, or that I'm somehow original or singular (I'm not). It's a life's work to strive for that; but that's what my intention is in more cases than not. I'm reminded of something Bill said during the rehearsals for what would become "17 Musicians in Search of a Sound: Darfur" -- he said something to the effect that the "old language, the old phrasing, won't work anymore - that's not what we're concerned with here" -- and I took him on his word with that and didn't try to play "Jazzy" (with a capital "J") because of the venue (NYC's Vision Festival) or an audience hungry for (to some degree) a specific kind of aesthetic experience... I simply did what I could to play Bill Dixon's music as I understood it then, and I tried to do it with my voice, in that moment, as honestly as I could.

The Dixon Society: When did you first hear the music of Bill Dixon? What were the circumstances? What did you hear?

Andrew Raffo Dewar: The first recording of Bill Dixon's work I heard was the LP Live in Italy, Vol. 2 - I bought it at a Minneapolis record store (the wonderfully named, and now defunct, Oarfolkjokeopus) in the fall of 1993. I bought it because I was familiar with Soul Note as a label, and I thought the cover painting was beautiful. When I bought and heard the album, though, I wasn't ready for it. I'm embarrassed to say so now, but it didn't make a huge impact on me at the time, even though I was already listening carefully and learning immensely from other "parallel" work by Sun Ra, Anthony Braxton, Roscoe Mitchell, Ornette Coleman, etc. (I had already, in high school, been blown away by bebop and the various periods of Coltrane and Miles Davis' work).

This brings up an interesting issue that most of us as music lovers and practitioners have no doubt experienced at some point -- the difference between hearing and listening, and how sometimes we aren't ready to really listen to something -- the time isn't right. I think about how Anthony Braxton talks about how he didn't like Coltrane and Parker's music when he first heard it - his ears weren't ready yet, he had to come to that music at a different time.

So, I was hearing Dixon at that point, but I wasn't listening.

The first Dixon recording I really listened to was a beat up copy of the 1962 Dixon/Shepp quartet on Savoy that I bought at a record store called Bird's Suite in downtown Portland, Oregon, where I lived for a year or so in 1994-95. That recording is beautiful -- the two Dixon compositions really moved me -- especially the intense, driving waltz of "Trio," with the amazingly abstract and rhythmically complex phrasing in the solos. I liked very much the rawness of the performances too -- their willingness to step just beyond what they could "reach" -- that has been an important lesson I am still learning from. I have great respect for and enjoy listening to clean, precise, technical virtuosity, but I am personally more interested in the exploration of the "unknown," the "surprise" -- what happens if I mess with my embouchure here? If I lift this pad just slightly, to allow an overtone or multi-phonic to pop out...things like that. The "happy accidents" (I recently heard legendary film director Sidney Lumet talking about these "happy accidents" as a goal in his filmmaking process -- a goal you can't force -- you can only set up a situation in which they might occur...so these things are, of course, being explored in many media).

The "lightning strike" recording of Bill's for me (and for many others, I'm sure) was Intents and Purposes, which I first heard in 1995, on a cassette dub made by multi-instrumentalist Milo Fine for my friend and colleague, the wonderful percussionist Chad Popple (who is now based in Hamburg). That recording floored me, and really rearranged my ideas of sound and music, and what was possible. The combination of Bill Dixon's sound-mass ideas for large ensemble, and Iannis Xenakis' concepts (which I was also discovering at the same time) has been one part of the road map for the aesthetic path I'm seemingly on now.

My first couple years at the University of Minnesota, in Minneapolis, I had fallen in with a wonderful crew of musicians and listeners (several of whom have gone on to do amazing work, like guitarist/composer John Dieterich of the "out-rock" band Deerhoof, the mind-blowing guitarist/composer Ed Rodriguez, who was in a recent edition of Weasel Walter's Flying Luttenbachers, and percussionist Chad Popple, mentioned above), and we were obsessed with turning each other on to new sounds, improvising and composing together, so that was a deep period of discovery and exploration for me.

TDS: Dixon as visual artist -- Are you as a visual artist moved by Dixon's visual art as you (as a musician) are moved by his music?

ARD: I love Bill's visual art, and in fact studied and wrote somewhat extensively about his work in my 2004 MA thesis at Wesleyan University. Though Bill does not like to conflate the two media (which I understand), I think my studies show that there is some conceptual overlap, particularly in the use of "modules" (Dixon's term) of activity in his work. Regarding Bill Dixon's impact on my own visual work (which has been focused on photography), I can't say there has been any direct influence -- I'm very much conceptually beholden to the work of Aaron Siskind, perhaps even to the point of being called a "copycat." I just frame images I find interesting. I like finding abstract forms in shadows and everyday surroundings, and when I'm exploring new places.

TDS: Have you always played the soprano saxophone? Who or what led you to that instrument in particular?

ARD: It's a long story, considering my relatively youthful age (33 at this writing). I have provided a short answer you can link to below this chunk of words for those that aren't interested in my personal history (given the context of this as a Dixon-centered site).

I started on trombone when I was 11 or 12 years old, playing in the (public) school concert bands. My father was a trombonist when he was young (in fact, when he graduated from high school, everyone -- except him -- thought he was going to be a professional musician) so I guess that's how I ended up on that -- though the band teacher said I had the lips for it...whatever that means. Plus they needed trombonists since everyone else wanted to play either trumpet or saxophone.

I stuck with that for a while, and developed a pretty nice sound and technique (I can, surprisingly, still get a decent sound out of the instrument), but I was resistant to reading music and learning theory, and in fact memorized most of my parts, which worked fine (I was "1st trombone") until we had to start sight-reading (when I was dropped to "last possible trombone"). As a result, my band teacher in junior high school kind of killed my enthusiasm for music by dealing with my difficulties in a negative and unproductive way -- though in hindsight I know she was just trying to get me to learn my fundamentals. Unfortunately my grade schools didn't have jazz band or orchestra, so the boring "concert band" repertoire also killed my interest. I played the trombone on my own for a while, outside of school, but that soon dropped off the map as I got interested in guitar, which I played seriously for about 7 or 8 years, in rock and noise bands. I also sang in the concert choir (where I finally learned to read music at a reasonable level) and performed in theatre productions in high school.

I bought a nice old Buffet grenadilla Bb clarinet when I was 17 or 18 (which I still play), because I had fallen in love with the sound of Johnny Dodds and Benny Goodman, and also would soon be blown away by the late, great Jimmy Giuffre's Western Suite on Atlantic, which I found a copy of around that time. I started playing that on my own, learning from books (particularly the Klosé), friends, and listening and playing along to records. Eventually the clarinet eclipsed my interest in the guitar, which I found increasingly frustrating because (in hindsight) I think it just wasn't my "voice."

I had also started studying Indonesian gamelan around 1995, at the Schubert Club gamelan in St. Paul, Minnesota led by Joko Sutrisno.

I left university and moved to New Orleans around 1996 to learn more about music, which I did, though in somewhat of a cloistered, inward way (very un-New Orleans) partly because I was embarrassed by my self-perceived lack of skills, and partly because I was interested in making different sounds than I was hearing around town. I practiced for hours each day, by myself, and spent the nights going out to hear music. Preservation Hall, though a tourist sight, had (and presumably still has) some deep players. I tried to get down there at least once a week. I was doing construction work in the French Quarter, and working outside, so I also got to hear a lot of music on the street -- especially an amazing bread delivery man that sang his deliveries, who I would run to hear during my lunch breaks on Fridays, and a wonderful blind clarinetist who played some pretty far out jazz, hidden in little alcoves around the Quarters. That, coupled with the fact that the work crew always had a radio tuned to WWOZ, a wonderful station, was my musical education at the time. I also volunteered at the Zeitgeist intermedia center (which was on Magazine St. then), so that exposed me to the alternative art/music/film scene down there. I remember an incredible concert by Edward "Kidd" Jordan and Alexander von Schlippenbach at that venue that blew my mind.

One of my major influences on the horn at this time was also very un-New Orleans -- I got turned onto old historical recordings of the clarinet playing of Turkish master musician Sükrü Tünar and Greek clarinetist Vasilios Saleas through a Syrian that owned an import store on Decatur St. at the time (maybe he still does). I special ordered as much of these old recordings from him as possible, and played along with them as best I could.

Finally, before I left New Orleans for two years of music study and travel throughout SE Asia and Australia (1998-2000) I saved enough money to buy a soprano, the 1927 Conn "New Wonder" I still love and play.

So that's the long story.

The short answer to the question:

There are several recordings I can single out as having led me, early on, to the soprano saxophone (in the chronological order that I first heard them) -- Pharoah Sanders' soprano solo on Alice Coltrane's Journey in Satchidananda, (Impulse) Julius Hemphill's solo on Concere Ntasiah on the Human Arts Ensemble recording P*nk J*zz, (Muse) Sidney Bechet's 1939 take on Summertime (Blue Note) , Lucky Thompson's soprano take on In a Sentimental Mood from Lucky Strikes (Prestige) and Steve Lacy's solo album Remains. (Hat Art) Of course I had also heard Coltrane's soprano work, which is wonderful, but I have never liked his *sound* on the soprano -- will I go to "jazz hell" for saying that? I like a more open, "Lacy-esque" sound, which really I think comes from Lacy's love for Johnny Hodges little-known soprano playing (Hodges had stopped playing the soprano by about 1941), which I discovered later, through Lacy, and which is some of the most beautiful soprano playing on record as far as I'm concerned.

5. Have you heard the new Dixon release with the Exploding Star Orchestra? If so, how would you compare that group and
recording with the Vision Festival Orchestra compared to the Wesleyan large ensemble led by Dixon? Can you hear any similarity--is there a unanimity in Dixon's compositional voice despite the difference in instrumentation and "gestalt" of each group?

Happy Birthday Bill Dixon! 5 Oct 2008 4:26 PM (16 years ago)

Born October 5, 1925

83 years young today!

Happy Birthday Bill Dixon!

17 Musicians in Search of a Sound: Darfur. 8 Jul 2008 10:00 PM (16 years ago)

Purchase.

Bill Dixon Speaks.

Thus Spracht Stef.

Brain Trust Think Tank.

All the Blogs are out tonight.

Hopefully I'm allowed to post this.

Bill Dixon with Exploding Star Orchestra 1 Mar 2008 6:28 AM (17 years ago)

Bill Dixon with Exploding Star Orchestra, Entrances/One (On Line Edit)

Thrill Jockey Website

"A photographer wanted a shot of Dixon playing his trumpet. "He put horn to lips and played the most sublime, powerful sound I have ever heard from any player ever," says Mazurek. "It was as if the church was going to crack open and a million white birds would fly from his chest, leaving traces of gold and silver in the light-blasted sky. What felt like an eternity was, in fact, one minute of sound. He ended the piece with an ascending flurry, and it was as if his sound had penetrated the granite pillars to be embedded in the rock for all of eternity."

"The experience of working with Bill Dixon on this project was a defining moment in my personal trajectory as a projector of sound and vision," says Mazurek. "Words cannot really describe the power and beauty of Bill Dixon. You only have to open your life and listen."

Dusted Reviews

"Dixon continues to attract criticism from certain segments of the jazz intelligentsia who ascribe him everything from a rampant ego to a charlatan’s desire to cover up lagging chops with gimmickry. This challenging set once again contravenes such claims, suggesting instead that the aging trumpeter is at the top of his game."

JazzReview.com

"On his composition “Entrances/Two,” Dixon solos above a set of frothy ostinatos, jagged bursts and garrulously executed horns and woodwinds. Sure enough, Dixon enables the mind’s eye to wander as he uses his trumpet as a vocal tool. They surge matters into the ozone, while finalizing the piece on a humble note. And it all equates to thrills a nanosecond as Dixon’s magic hand yields innumerable dividends throughout this wondrously compelling program."

AllAboutJazz.com

"Dixon appears again, ghostly but authoritative. His final solo of the piece is stunning and uncanny, with deep intonations delving into bass frequencies as if in a subterranean echo chamber."

The Abstract Index:

"Bill Dixon with Exploding Star Orchestra explores many moods over the course of each kaleidoscopic piece. It may take patience and close listening to fully reveal its rewards, but the results of Dixon and Mazurek's mutual admiration society are well worth a serious investigation."

Bright Moments

"So as it happens I was standing about 10 feet away from Mazurek and Dixon when they met at the workshop described in paragraph one above. I missed the sound check, but I was there shortly after for the concert in the church, and it were beyond my wildest, as they say.... The next day I got to hang--they say this, really they do--with Bill and his wife Sharon a bit, and that too were way beyond awesome."

Audiversity

"A bit more sprawling than the previous release, Dixon utilizes the darkly glowing backdrops to propel his intensely poetic and spacey solos.

They're a 15-strong jazz orchestra from Chicago under the direction of trumpeter Rob Mazurek. On their new album they're joined by free jazz founding father, fellow trumpet player Bill Dixon - the connection between the two was forged at the Guelph Jazz Festival last year."

Exclaim!

"A fortuitous encounter between jazz great Bill Dixon and prolific music diplomat Rob Mazurek at the 2006 Guelph Jazz Festival yields a rare effort that sounds as cool as it looks on paper."

Pop Matters

"The record is an opportunity to hear Dixon in a rare ensemble setting, and see how his mind arranges the tools presented to him by Mazurek, while also seeing how nimbly the Exploding Star Orchestra can help the master realize his visions without compromising them."

Free Jazz

"In all, this is again a magnificent album, finding the right balance between composed orchestration and free improvization, impressive from beginning to end."

BBC

"Dixon's two-part Entrances bookends the disc, dedicated to solar storm-brewing, utilising a palette of shimmering vibraphone, dappled piano, murmuring timpani drums and deeply slumbering bass. The co-leaders trade echoed horn spirals, and the Orchestra plays as one cerebellum, shunting from complete spacious abstraction to unstoppably rolling themes."

The Jazz Loft

"Although he's worked with medium-sized ensembles before, there has been little documentation. This new album joins Intents and Purposes and The Enchanted Messenger (Soul Note), an outing led by drummer Tony Oxley, as the only recorded evidence of his work with a larger group."

Time Out New York

"Since the ’60s, trumpeter Bill Dixon has proved himself to be one of the most dedicated vanguardists in jazz, honing an instantly recognizable language on his instrument while composing at a furious rate."

Ear Plug

"Brewing a solar storm, Dixon's two-part "Entrances" bookends the disc with shimmering vibraphone, dappled piano, murmuring timpani, and deeply slumbering bass. The co-leaders trade echoed horn spirals as the Orchestra plays with one mind, shunting from spacious abstractions to unstoppably rolling themes."

Michael Patrick Brady

"Not being well versed in Dixon's oeuvre (only heard a few tracks here and there), I'm pleased to have a bit of an introduction to his style and approach in this context, playing with a group that I am pretty familiar with. The tracks Dixon led, two separate takes of a single piece called Entrances are really the main event here. Mazurek's track, Constellations for Inner Light Projections is fine enough but seems a little pale when sandwiched between Entrances."

I Hate Music: Dixon on Thrill Jockey?

I Hate Music:: Bill Dixon

Point of Departure:

In his solos, Dixon vents his rage and sorrow with stark lyricism, suppressed screams, airy howls, and gusts of white noise. It’s a devastating, precise performance; he seems to mourn the fading of each note as if it were all he had in an otherwise cold, indifferent universe.

The Wire (Feb 2008)

It’s a thrill to hear his heavily echoed rasps and bleats weave and bank across Exploding Star Orchestra’s backdrop of sparring instrumentalists and polyrhythmic grooves during the opening minutes of both versions of “Entrances”. He should do this sort of thing more often.

Blog Critics

It must have been a thrill for Mazurek to team up with free jazz legend Bill Dixon. You can almost hear that sentiment as Mazurek's flugelhorn and Dixon's trumpet traverse the textures of "Entrances." With intensity swinging from full boil to pensive rubato, it'll keep you on the edge of your listening seat wondering what direction is next.

Marksaleski.com

If you think that it’s just a bunch of musicians playing whatever they want, you really should check out this Bill Dixon record

Mapsadaisical

Given Dixon’s history - having played not only with Sun Ra, but with Archie Shepp and Cecil Taylor, his reputation as one of the most original thinkers in jazz is borne out by the list of those he has worked with - getting him involved makes so much sense. With him on board, they have produced two expansive, technically impressive but above all hugely enjoyable compositions.

Happy Birthday Bill Dixon! 5 Oct 2007 8:59 AM (17 years ago)

It was 82 years ago today!

Happy birthday Bill Dixon!

Some Recent Dixon Ephemera 18 Sep 2007 9:00 PM (17 years ago)

Dixon at the Vision Festival

Dixon in Chicago (provided by Daniel Melnick Thank you Daniel!)

Click to enlarge.

Was there any Dixon ephemera generated in the recent Chicago Jazz Festival performance with Rob Mazurek?

Anthony Widoff 7 Jul 2007 11:43 AM (17 years ago)

Ellington nailed it with his criteria for musical quality: “if it sounds good it is good”. Unfortunately, this unassailable formulation does little to resolve the question of what constitutes good music, for there obviously exists little agreement regarding what sounds good.

Musical fanatics are often hardwired to condemn whatever offends their ears, as if the music they worship might perish should the aural infection spread. There may be good reason for such alarm. Sound is an invasive phenomenon. Musical sound waves cannot maintain coherency when modulated by uninvited waveforms. Some musics are as delicate as smoke rings, requiring very particular conditions for their appreciation. Other musics assume the characteristics of a jack hammer so as to override any possible interference. It may be that listeners experience extreme visceral reactions against unwanted sounds in a genuine effort to preserve and protect their musical universe.

In the contemporary public space there is often no way to avoid being exposed to sounds of the most tasteless inane banal and abrasive order. Indeed, if one lives within the clamor of the inner city, there may be no respite as audio pollution regularly invades the private space.

But within the world of so-called “free jazz”, (or this music as Bill Dixon generally refers to it) this is clearly not the case. If you don’t want to hear it, chances are you never will.

- - -

All serious listeners base their standards of musical form & competence upon the work of their musical hero(s). Every musical idiom develops its own standards of brilliance by which its musicians are rated. The desire to have a technical Standard is understandable because it’s useful. Technical specifications simplify the process of coming to agreement regarding what constitutes technical proficiency.

The Standard allows merit to be judged, thus order and coherency is kept within the form.

However, musical standards are utilized not only to establish a hierarchy within a musical scene. They are just as often used to assail and disparage anyone who disregards or challenges the form. Music-scenes are infamous for their dismissal and cruelty towards those (both within the idiom and without) who are perceived as not cutting it - not playing according to The Standard (another way to put it: generating hostile waveforms).

Yet without exception brilliant musical talent will in one way or another break the ephemeral rules of their own idiom. Therefore, The Standard is more an artifact of perspective than any verifiable measure of worth or value.

Unfortunately, there remain some commentators who (while thinking themselves supportive of the sanctity of individual expression) still insist on making determinations regarding the cats who can and “can’t” play. This begs the question: play by whose rules?

- - -

There are doubtless many specific motivations for the making of music. But in general the musician is motivated by a desire to please. If no one (musician included) is pleased by the music making, there is little impetus to continue. The desire to please comes in two forms. There is the desire to please others, and the desire to please oneself. All social beings have natures composed of some mixture of the two.

The musician who appeals to the crowd is “in”. The musician attuned to the inner ear is “out”. Many musicians yearn to play “out”, but few are willing to build their career there. Prudent players may keep a foot in both. But all musicians know that it’s much more difficult “out”-there, therefore respect should be reserved for those who have made the out-side their home.

It makes some sense to judge the “in” crowd based upon The Standard of their chosen music-scene. But it makes no sense to judge the “out” voice by any standard other than Ellington’s. The perspective of the outsider is invariably at odds with the in-scene, and so the standards cannot be fairly applied.

Therefore, any deep and open-minded listener would do well to remain suspicious of any standards for judgment when attempting an appreciation of those not explicitly working within an idiom. When convention is challenged and a new voice arises, some pundit will always claim it’s crap. The only relevant guides are your ears: does it sound good? Yes? Good music. No? Call it what you will.

There has always been a blurry line between the genius, the renegade, and the poser. What’s really legit? Ellington makes it unequivocally clear: it matters only to the individual listener. The standards of musical merit are a matter of perspective. All efforts to enforce an objective standard can only stifle the possibility of the next great music.

- - -

I know what sounds good to my ears, and when I hear something unpleasing it is at times extraordinarily difficult to resist the temptation to bomb the offending noise back to the stone-age. If music were a democracy where majority rules then clearly I am statistically insignificant in my assessment of what constitutes good music, and I imagine this is the case for most anyone considering these words. When it comes to this music, we’re a microdot on the demographic map. If the criticism of obviously insincere commercial music does nothing to change the world for the better, it makes no sense to criticize a sincere artist just because your ears don’t dig the sound.

Those of us with an ear for “out” forms are in a precarious position when we employ standards other than our own ears to judge these sounds. Energy might better be spent trying to imagine what it would take to hear it with fresh ears.

As a student I was not always a fan of Bill Dixon’s music, but I am now. My appreciation of music would be far more narrow had I not reconsidered the sounds I once dismissed as unworthy.

Antony Widoff
12/20/2006

___________________

The Dixon Society: Tell us about how you came to study with Dixon. What were some of your musical high points before attending Bennington and what attracted you to Bennington college and Dixon in particular.

AW: Those events still within memory’s grasp which might in one way or another be considered Musical High Points (pre-Bennington, semi-chronological): pediatric piano: sheet music pleasures (Bach & Joplin), an eventual epiphany (Derek & the Dominoes “Layla” can be learned without sheet music.) Merrywood Music Camp: Brahms’ Rhapsody in D min., male soprano in compulsory campus-wide chorus, introduction to multi-instrumentalism (timpanist), cardboard box drum along with mid-period Steely Dan phonographs, first composition (co-writer): “Blue Bozina” for 4 part chorus + piano accompaniment). Electron-powered noise-making: Hohner Pianet, CAT SRM duo-phonic synthesizer. High School of Music & Art (M&A): senior jazz band piano humiliations, rock band conscriptions, extracurricular sensory modification & sonic mind expansion via: Art Bears, Captain Beefheart, Henry Cow, The Residents, Frank Zappa, Pere Ubu, Ornette Coleman, Fred Frith, Odeon Pope, Terje Rypdal, etc.

Bennington’s appeal to this then high-school grad: grade-free academics, student-designed curriculum, free-thought allowable, manageable social density, postmodern artistic “standards”/pretensions, lots of dancers, Vermont air & views, an occasional semblance of grit, fresh young naive enthusiasm, post-counter-cultural disaffections, optional dress code, etc.

Bill Dixon:

My first encounter with Bill Dixon was as a high-school senior visiting Bennington College as a potential payer. Prospective students were to be courted that day, so various faculty members were occasionally made available for Q&A. I came upon Bill in the lobby of the Visual and Performing Arts building (VAPA). I had never heard of a “Black Music” department before, and the concept struck me as odd. My high school experience with what is often called “jazz” had not impressed upon me the fact that popular American music (especially of an improvisational nature) was very much the invention and genius of African descendents.

And so from the depths of my ignorance I decided to ask Bill directly what exactly was meant by the term “Black Music”. Anyone who knows Bill Dixon should have no difficulty imagining the response. For the rest, description could not possibly do it justice. Suffice it to say I wasn’t charmed, but the event certainly left an impression on me.

Bill has often delighted in reminding me of this incident.

Consequently I did not initially make much effort to study with Bill Dixon, and this lamentable position seemed at the time to be justified by the testimonials of those who did.

Many students were terrified of Bill. He did not hesitate to excoriate aspirants, many of whom (like me) had been raised a bit too comfortable, and therefore had not developed the thick skin required of a serious player. I heard a number of stories of students reduced to tears, and I saw it a few times too. I didn’t quite get the appeal.

Despite my initial boycott of Dixon classes, I found myself attending just about every Dixon concert I could. At the time I did not understand in the least what he was doing, and consequently was uncertain why I attended - except for the fact that I knew I would be missing something significant if absent. I had no idea what any of it meant to me, although I could see that it meant a lot to others.

It took a while for me to appreciate the radical nature of Bill Dixon’s work. All I really knew at the time was that something unusual was being done, and that there appeared to be a seriousness of purpose.

During my first year (1983-84) I found The Music almost entirely impenetrable. I realized that I didn’t get it, and essentially this pissed me off. I felt inadequate and challenged. I spent a considerable amount of time thinking about the questions raised: to what extent is intentionality necessary or desirable in the production of music? When exactly does intention occur, and what is one to do with it when it arises? How malleable are pitch and rhythm? Is it possible to create meaningful music without considering idiomatic musical form as a guiding principal? Does the audience matter? Why should it be necessary to know what is coming next? Is it possible and/or desirable for the performer to fully understand what it is they are doing? What is an ensemble, what does it mean to play in an ensemble, what is the goal of musicianship? Etc, etc, etc.

By the end of every concert I was thinking and hearing differently than when I went in. These concerts were, prior to the precious little time spent at later dates playing and discussing music with Bill, my main learning experience from the man. If I recall correctly, I took only one official class with Bill – an ensemble class. The primary activity in the class was Bill’s scathing critique & ridicule of the assembled, for the reasons mentioned above. I now believe that Bill was completely correct in his assessment and was doing his job by telling the class that they were wasting both their time and his.

I did not realize until much later that Bill’s attitude was probably due to a shift in the quality of player attending the college. In its heyday, the Black Music department had many extremely competent players, allowing for rather sophisticated and nuanced work. For whatever reason (I’ll forego speculation), during the time I matriculated (1983-87) it was rare to find anyone with any significant facility on their instrument. From what I can gather, the caliber of player improved somewhat in the 90s.

Q: Can you describe rehearsing with Dixon? Can you talk about your 'rig', his 'rig' and what you did/what Dixon talked about when rehearsing?

A: I’ll write a bit on what I recall about working with Bill Dixon in general, including how the opportunity came to pass, and some of the technical issues involved.

If memory serves correctly (it may not), Bill Dixon approached me after hearing a quasi-improvisational duet for synthesizer and saxophone that I performed with Jon Bepler (on sax). As I recall, Bill was intrigued by my use of the synthesizer. He invited me to explore the possibility of doing some electronic work with him.

I had gotten involved with a project that was the brainchild of Bennington’s electronic music professor Joel Chadabe. This project eventually became the music software company Intelligent Music (IM). Joel had a vision to create what he called the “intelligent instrument”: an instrument that could create complex musical output from simple performance gestures. Chadabe assembled a student team consisting of myself and John Offenhartz to develop a few software models of the idea on a FM Synclavier in XPL4 (a computer controlled Frequency Modulation synthesizer programmed in a computer language called XPL4). David Zicarelli soon joined and became a driving force behind the company, with many brilliant ideas and a very high level of programming skill (thereby graciously ending my career as a programmer). IM developed some of the first software featuring compositional algorithms and real-time interactivity, making the software usable as an improvisational tool.

In the first set of sessions with Bill Dixon I generally used a Zicarelli program called “Jam Factory”, which utilized Markov chain analysis to achieve a kind of contextualized pitch randomization. Jam Factory also featured a number of powerful real-time interactive capabilities, including the ability to specify, & modify pitch and duration collections, note “density” (how often a player would play), dynamic range, time mapping, tempo, accents, etc. I was thus able to establish non-deterministic probabilistic fields of musical activity, which functioned as a supportive musical environment over which Bill & I could play.

In advance of a session I would prepare an electronic environment within which to operate: a set of synthesized sounds (in the 80s it was mainly Yamaha FM and Oberheim modules), processing patches (I think at that time all I had was a Yamaha SPX90 and an Alesis digital reverb) and software settings and controls. There was no pre-existing musical material. A microphone would be available for Bill, and sometimes that signal would be routed through various devices (I remember one session where I had a primitive sampler that could only grab a few seconds and play back directly (at that time it could not even transpose or change sample playback rate).

I recall being in a constant struggle with the technology – and the results were often very uneven and mixed. The primary difficulty was not to lose the force of immediate intention within the array of interesting technical possibilities (which I hazard to say is the typical result when art meets technology, and is the reason I am now wary of its use in “this” or any other meaningful music).

It came down to an effort to minimize the worst of the technology’s negative effects. In this early work with Bill Dixon I was satisfied to be able to control partially stochastic textures with a reasonable degree of intentionally. I was lucky in a typical performance if the system would not break down more than a few times. Despite these problems, I do believe that some of the work done at that time is perhaps the most essential and intense musical expression I’ve ever been party to.

For our more recent efforts I changed the approach accordingly. I eliminated the use of a computer and determined to have all sound originate from actual performance gestures (as opposed to algorithmic compositional processes). This was accomplished via complex signal routing, allowing me to take any source (including Bill's horn) and feed it into loop, delay and other signal processes. I established real-time control over each of these processes, and over a simple but highly flexible and changeable palette of synthesized sound. While rehearsing I also used an old Fender Rhodes piano as a sound source, but this was never used in performance.

Although I still encountered some of the same kinds of reliability problems with this pared-down technology, I found overall to be a more satisfying approach.

Nevertheless, I have come to the conclusion that technology in general is more of a pain in the ass than it is worth, and I am less and less interested in messing around with it.

While at Bennington, sessions with Bill typically ran as follows: we would convene at the appointed time in my Jennings basement studio. Rarely was much said at all.

Bill would direct the movement of the music entirely from his horn. I applied myself to follow his lead. In general, I tried to treat the electronics as an “orchestral” texture over which Bill & I could work. We would typically play between 40-70 minutes and then take a break. Most of the sessions were recorded on audio cassette, and we would often take a break and listen to what had just transpired – sometimes convening in Bill’s 2nd floor Jennings office for a long listening session.

Bill might make a few comments, or not. Often we’d work for another 30-60 minutes and then wrap.

Our more recent sessions were essentially the same thing with a few minor variations: the location was my 3rd floor studio in Hudson NY, everything was recorded digitally, and we would play for a few hours and then go get something to eat at Earth Foods’ lunch-counter down the block.

Q: Did any of the other music faculty you studied with ever speak about Dixon's music? What did they say if anything?

A: Attending High School in NYC’s Spanish Harlem taught me early the many necessary skills of the artful dodger.

As far as I am aware, I was one of the few Bennington students involved in both the “Music Division” and the “Black Music Division” who was not eventually railroaded into choosing sides. Whenever I got a whiff of the animosity between the two I was (frankly) sickened by all involved. Therefore I adopted the only proper attitude to take towards all human institutions and politics: I keep as far away from the entrenched inanity as feigned ignorance will allow.

Music Faculty meetings were legendary for their drama, and Bill reportedly figured prominently in the action. As I never attended a Music Department meeting (or at least have blocked any memory of having done so), I choose to treat what little I recall of the reportage as apocryphal. I therefore decline the opportunity to lend credence to rumor. As with much of what is presented as news, I have no way to assess whether reportage bears any resemblance to fact.

Lionel Novak, with whom I briefly studied, had nothing but good things to say about Bill Dixon. I remember him singing Bill’s praises quite often. He particularly admired Bill’s unique approach to music-making, and said on a number of occasions that he felt himself incapable of approaching music making in a similar manner. Lionel had very big ears and was not afraid of any music no matter his own predilections.

Other Members of the Music Faculty Who Shall Go Nameless may have had a somewhat different reaction to and opinion of Bill Dixon. Within the Black Music Department itself there was certainly a lot of, shall we say, creative tension.

Q: Do you have a favorite Dixon recording

A: Odyssey solo works. I particularly enjoy the triptych which feature a young William Dixon playing and talking in the background (I See Your Fancy Footwork 1, 2, 3). The whole set is miraculous.

I have always preferred Bill Dixon solo (which I heard for hours every day as my studio was within earshot of his at Bennington). I think of this as being the true unadulterated Dixon. Direct from the source, im-mediate expression with no unnecessary additives or impurities of any kind.

When we performed at the Visions festival last year (or was it the year before?) I was completely awe-struck as Bill performed his sound check. Those were some of the finest few minutes of sound ever to have entered my ears.

Although I have tended to diverge from the path Bill wisely laid before me, he has succeeded in teaching me one thing for which I will always be eternally grateful: the primacy of immediacy in any authentic expression. My sessions with Bill, and the time spent hanging out bullshitting or in serious conversation with him have enriched me to the depths of my white-ass Ashkenazi soul.

Bill’s profound manner of being and unique intellect will remain a profound influence on my life until the day I die.

Q: What is on the musical horizon?

A: If you’re inquiring into my own personal musical horizon, I am pleased to report zero activity now or for the foreseeable future. I find myself less and less inclined to spend my energy on music, in the ordinary sense of the word. If at a later date I discover that music has a healthy place in my life and that I can avoid the bullshit that generally characterizes the musician’s life – I’ll happily return to the fold. Otherwise, I am content to set my gaze on non-musical horizons.

If you’re inviting me to speculate on the horizon of music in general, my forecast is bleak. There is some remarkably urgent music being made these days, but the overall capacity of music as a meaningful social force has, in my opinion, been eroded to near-nil. Audiences have now been pummeled for generations with such a high intensity and vast quantity of aural stimulation - they have become inured to the potential for a transformative experience from even the best of the best.

It is hard to know what meaning can be assigned “art-music” at a time like this. If we are to believe Attali (in his fine book “Noise: the political economy of music”) that human musical expression originates in violence (given voice in the war cry – the original musical utterance: utterly im-mediate), it becomes clear that music utilized for the questionable purposes of “entertainment” is sacrilege. The alternatives are unclear to me, but change is always in the offing.

2007 Vision Festival Links 27 Jun 2007 7:47 PM (17 years ago)

Bill Dixon Chamber Orchestra 2007
Stephen Haynes/Isabelle Moisan and Michel Côté
StephenHaynes.blogspot.com

Bill Dixon -- Forgotten?
Mwanji Ezana
be-jazz.blogspot.com

Bill Dixon Chamber Orchestra Redux
Stephen Haynes
Stephen Haynes.blogspot.com

A Trumpeter In His 80's Feeds the Fires of His Revolution
Nate Chinen
New York Times

Vision Festival 2007
David R. Adler
Jazz Times

Double Bill // Double Vision
Destination Out

Vision Festival Day 2
Darcy James Argue
Secret Society

Back Stage with...Bill Dixon
Hank Shteamer
Time Out New York

Vision Festival XII June 19-24
Written by Administrator
Jazz Police Dot Com

Thus Spracht Dixon 20 Jun 2007 11:00 AM (17 years ago)

For your edification and amusement, a small selection of quotes by Bill Dixon taken from the 2nd rehearsal of the Sound Vision Orchestra in the basement of the Angel Orensanz Foundation in New York City on June 19th, 2007.

"There's something more interesting about the process than the final product"

"How does someone put something on the page and then how do the variations emerge?"

"How many of you have heard Rex Stewart...live?"

"Even more than facility, you have to have an identifiable sound"

"The ones that defined this music weren't going to get an MBA"

"I would have given an arm to play in the Ellington band"

"This sound that we will make, no one else can make - this sound belongs to this group"

"When you play, you must understand that's all you - you should make that as pronounced as you can"

"the lowliest musician has power whether its James Brown selling 20,000 records a month or James Blow selling 20 a year--they are equal. There is parity"

"You are who you are. Students used to say to me 'I want to play like Charlie Parker.' I would tell them 'you can't.' You don't want to live like Charlie Parker--how are you going to play like Charlie Parker? Charlie Parker didn't want to live like Charlie Parker"

"I don't want an exact precision"

"I never want a (musical) device if I can avoid it"

"You have to pretend this is your first crack at playing the drums, forget about sticking patterns"

"Molti molti ani fa"

"No accuracy in terms of notes - a shape"

"Music should not be suffered through. If its a chore, you should be headed to Wall Street"

"You can only be who you are, you should be proud of who you are or you should change who you are"

"There is no room for thinking in the act of music"

"You practice to forget"

"Do we have a storyline here?"

"You have to be careful about idiomatic things related to the instrument"

"you have to be willing to take a chance"

"We are 16 people in search of a larger instrument"

"Keep your eyes --all four of them-- on me, not on the music"

"Whatever you get you have to use"

"I'm not dictatorial about telling you what to do by flapping my arms and generally I don't like that sort of physical activity"

"I don't give a damn what you do, just so we end up at the same place. you can play 1/4 for all I care just as long as we end up at the same place" Dixon to Garrison on Intents and Purposes re: 6/4 and 4/4 time.

"I would rather not be arithmetical, I'd rather the ensemble feel that"

"I don't want success, I want adventure"

"I hope my music doesn't torture people - I hope people sit on the end of their seat"

"Sometimes what you know can stand in the way"

"History as constraint"

"ALL MUSIC IS EQUAL"

Eric Zinman 29 May 2007 6:49 PM (17 years ago)

For over 20 years, Eric Zinman has dedicated his life to the pursuit of this music. Eric is mentioned in Bill Dixon's book L'Opera, and frequently works with colleagues of Dixon in and outside the Boston/Cambridge area.

A big thank you to Eric for his time and patience creating this thorough, honest interview.

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The Dixon Society: When (and where) did you first hear the music of Bill Dixon?

Eric Zinman: I first heard a recording of Bill Dixon's music in 1980. I was still living in my parent’s home in Newton, MA where I was still a junior in high school. I bought the album Bill Dixon in Italy Volume 2 on Soul Note when I visited Bennington College to find out more about the black music program. I was interested in this thing called "jazz" but only knew Kind of Blue/Miles Davis so Bill Dixon's music was strange to me--though I was attracted to some of the sounds and it grew on me. Despite Bill Dixon's incredibly beautiful tone I really didn't understand or necessarily relate to it right away but I was very curious and knew right away that Bill new more about writing music than anybody I had ever met. I had mostly known players of instruments but Bill was equally a composer and I had heard that he was a very effective teacher. Bill's excellence as a teacher and creative accomplishments were also communicated to me by the woman who interviewed me in the admissions office in 1980.

Q: What else were you listening to at the time? What were your musical interests and direction(s) before meeting Bill?

A: I can't say much about my direction as I was not sure I wanted to be a musician--I was very fond of writing and particularly poetry (a godforsaken religion without hope). My musical interests were very conservative. I had just discovered "Kind of Blue" and still thought of a lot of modernism, like Schoenberg, as overly intellectual. I was bored with rock music and wanted to deal with a music where the piano played an important role.

So the music called Jazz was very inviting not only for its acoustic sensibility but also the rhythm. I heard Thelonious Monk and was floored by the placement and unusual tension of his chords. When Monk hit the piano I wanted to jump. My classical teacher Angel Ramone Rivera had introduced me to modernism, but it was largely populist modernism from the 50's: Kabalevsky, Tcherepnin, Waxman, Mennoti, even Brubeck. Angel naturally believed that formal concert music was the central core of all serious music study, but encouraged interest in jazz because he thought that it would create more interest in Classical music for young children, which was his specialty. I was given Bartok, but didn't care for the Microcosmos. I later regretted my lack of interest in those pieces as they could have solved a lot of technical problems. Of course there were the 19th and 18th century standards, Bach, Hanon, Czerny, Chopin, Haydn etc.

I took on a couple jazz teachers, first Don Hemwall (among the few to actually graduate with a degree in composition from Berklee College of Music) and later Paul Barringer who had been of student of Harvey Diamond's. Both gave me some good advice and helped my control of the instrument. Both of these teachers were quite reactionary and referred to the music of Cecil Taylor and Andrew Hill as outsider music (and felt it wasn’t important.) Both thought that these musicians outdid themselves and that you had to know your changes before attempting that sort of thing. They had never heard of Bill Dixon. Such is/was the provincial nature of art/music in Boston.

As a teenager I was involved in some professional choirs as a boy’s soprano and was singing Mahler and contemporary works such as Donal Martino's Opera, The Divine Comedy which involved over 100 voices and several conductors and percussion and wind ensemble. I would also attend evening sessions in a church where good musicians played standards like Autumn Leaves and Stella by Starlight. I also sang in several other choirs and musicals which involved more popular music. So I was very fortunate for these experiences and I heard music in my head constantly, even in my sleep, it consumed me and that scared me a little, but I was exposed to incredible things conservative though they were. I remember listening to a recording of Boulez conducting Stravinsky's Rite of Spring and thinking how noisy it was and then later recognizing the folk material because I could sing it.

Q: What was the instrumentation of the ensemble class when you were at Bennington? How often did that class meet?

A: OK let’s see... I was at Bennington from 1981-1985. My first year I took Intro to Black Music and actually did not pass the course...but perhaps we might leave that out to get to the point. I began playing in Ensembles my second year. I began watching every ensemble from Bill's to Arthur's to Milford's. These ensembles were small compared to the photos of the ensembles from the 70's that I saw but there were occasionally some large ensembles that rehearsed and performed and were led by musicians from the outside. I remember 1 large 10-12 piece ensemble led by David Ware. It was incredible and better than anything I've heard by David Ware on record. I remember Bill playing in the evening with Noah Rosen on piano, Jay Dunbar on bass, Kevin Soaring on piano and John Sheppler on drums. Besides Arthur Brooks there were at least 3 other teaching assistants (as the Black Music Division had a budget.) They were Vance Provey trumpet and Stephen Haynes trumpet and Linda Dowdell piano. My first ensemble (entry level) was with Vance Provey who I thought was a good teacher and a kind and supportive guy. There was a woman on drums, a guitarist (possibly Ian Gittler) and a woman named Janis who sang. We met once a week. Bill Dixon's ensemble met Thursday and Friday and I was there often to watch.

Arthur selected me to perform in his ensemble piece "Maze" which I saw listed on pg 269 of Dixonia. I thought we met more than once a week but I’m not sure. The instrumentation was as stated:

Arthur Brooks: Trumpet

Jeff Taylor: Tenor Saxophone

Pilar Castro: cello

Eric Zinman: Piano

Andy Dillon and Rick O'Neil: Percussion

Special guest Bill Dixon: Trumpet, Flugelhorn

My memory was that each musician or pairs of musicians were given different musical tasks that would occur simultaneously. The result was a glorious mass of sound. This first experience stretched my concept of how ensembles could create music using improvisation as a tool. I remember also the character of the solo would be defined according to what was needed, what came after or what preceded. I was impressed with how Arthur Brooks instructed the 2 percussionists to do rolls with mallets on different drums, when they matched each other on the same drum Arthur instructed them to move away quickly to another drum creating this delicate and intense dynamic dialogue. Other instructions involved long tones and a melody played in chords on the piano. Bill Dixon created his own part which had a pointillistic sound which added depth and dimension to this 'maze' of sound. Solos were not traditional solos but rather integral parts of the pieces logic.

Bill Dixon always explained that the character and reason for the solo had to be defined i.e. its significance to the whole. You would be aware of each instrument within the ensemble as they might be singled out but there were no changes or trading fours or any historic pedantics

Bill Dixon also performed his piece Stations at that concert

At Bennington, I had 2 piano teachers and 2 paper courses so frankly it was a bit too much to absorb. Later I reduced my course load to focus more on piano/composition with Bill/ and the ensemble.

At that time Bill Dixon taught composition in conjunction with his ensemble. Marco Eneidi had come down to be an assistant. He was very kind and spent time with me, showing me many things. Marco had that intensity and the real sound of the lower east side NYC players. He taught me many things about the older music as well as the new. I remember he taught me 'Lush Life', explaining that the tempo did not have to be metered and how expressive you could be with tempo, focusing on the melody with no solos.

The ensemble met Thursday and Friday every week and it included Dan Gorn for a while, Marco Eneidi, a singer who Marco brought up whose name I have forgotten, and a guitarist named Joel Stillerman, Jeff Taylor (tenor saxophone) and occasionally Arthur Brooks would be there. Different percussionists would show up including Rick O'Neil and Andy Dillon. We did all sorts of pieces from Ellington, Monk, and Mingus to Bill Dixon, George Russell and Ornette Coleman. We created many of our own pieces through many different methods from conventional notation to verbal directives and instant playing. As a result I think we all learned the meaning of orchestration and composition. Mostly we did our own music and Bill Dixon's music.

There was an ensemble that met weekly at one time to do an arrangement of Elllington's 'Echoes of Harlem' I think it had at least 8 musicians. I remember Bill explained the history of the piece and after several weeks it had grown to an incredible mass of musical lines and sonorities that had me speechless. My memory of the situation in terms of pedagogy was that Bill Dixon believed that the study of the traditional music was invaluable particularly if one understood the subtleties but did not prequalify you to play the music of Ayler, Taylor, Coleman and other luminaries of the 60's. That music had to be tackled on its own and we had to find our own way to respond to it and no amount of isolated study would make it happen. Everything had to come from the ensemble and from us.

What I heard and saw transported me out of myself. Words cannot express the far reaching conception that was created within that department. This was something that defied academic expectations. In addition Bill Dixon paid out of his budget and his own pocket to bring the best from NYC and PA to Bennington. This is something that Bennington College hasn't even a clue about today. So in a sense Bill saved me from my sheltered suburban life. I had never before seen such sweat and intensity in music. I think Bill is unusual in that besides being a pioneer as a musician/composer he made me more aware of all these people who are and had been committed to making music. No one else I know would have dared to expose this reality to this extent.

Q: What was your Masters Degree experience at NEC like? Was there an 'ensemble' at NEC?

A: I attended NEC from 1985-1988. I failed my diagnostics on the graduate comprehensive so had to take it again a year later to pass. Bill Dixon tutored me on that so that I could pass. No one at the school had taught me how to do this kind of analysis, but after Bill showed me it was easy.

Yes there were many ensembles at NEC but nothing like what Dixon, Taylor, and other people in NYC and internationally were doing. There was of course the Great George Russell and watching his orchestra and small ensembles was probably the most interesting thing I did at NEC. There was also the Great Jimmy Giuffre who brought out and played with the students many of his best scores from the fifties (which was mostly what George Russell brought out as well). The architecture on these pieces was usually very strict. The player could not be trusted to do too much but hey it was some of the best writing I've ever seen and heard. Classes didn't really relate to the music. It seemed more theoretical from 16th century counterpoint to History of Western musical styles to Lydian Chromatic Concept to private studies on instruments and composition.

The general musical climate was still based on playing chords and doing tributes to the "Masters". In Third Stream which was directed by Ran Blake student after student played the same material though often the original piece that was being interpreted was unrecognizable and purely academic. I don't think it’s really possible to modernize Thelonious Monk or Duke Ellington as much as we're all students and we love to learn. Ran Blake repeated much of the pedantic criticism from the 60's referring to the "anger of the avant-garde" in relation to Albert Ayler. When I asked Ran about the October Revolution he simply said he knew about it, but I gathered from his response that he did not attend it.

The Third Stream department did not have any strong ensembles where people really knew how to write and consequently this carried over into the improvisation which had no raison d'etre. They were very interested in researching music from other places but when it came down to orchestration, whether it was written or not, the level of skill or awareness was substandard. Perhaps it reflected the paucity of ideas as they didn't seem to intimately know the recordings from that period. My first evaluation involved playing tunes of Ran's choice which were not my taste and I didn't try to play them in any adventurous way so the very young faculty who witnessed this said that I needed to do more 'free improvisation'. Ran seemed speechless after that because he didn't like 'free improvisation' and actually that was first time I had heard that term. So the evaluation was meaningless.

Q: Was anyone at NEC dealing with 'this music'?

A: I would say no. The European students I met were very familiar with "this music" but it was rarely discussed and thought by many as passé. I remember reading in an interview from the mid 70's where Jimmy Giuffre said "we will now use the language of the established jazz tradition" so there was a sense that this music didn't go anywhere in their eyes (though clearly it had changed the way they do music).

To be fair to Jimmy and tell his side of the story, he acknowledged that he never cared for my teacher, Bill Dixon's music and explained now when he had his 60's ensemble he was working less than he had ever worked in his life such that he abandoned it. George Russell rarely if ever discussed Dixon or Taylor. I would say Ornette Coleman was the most accessible to them and my teachers acknowledged him as an innovator but Ayler, Wright and the rest including the European schools were avoided. That may be different now; I don't know.

Students acknowledged playing freely but it was not taken very seriously. I suggested to the head of the Jazz department, Hankus Netsky at the time, that he bring some musicians from NYC and offer Laurence Cook a master class. I met with him for dinner and we discussed these musicians and I played recordings. He told me he was a conservative and felt that the students wouldn't know who these people were and wouldn't relate to it or find it intriguing and even went so far as to say that they prefer musicians who show more obvious connections to the older music, what he referred to as "halfway" or "in and out." This reminds me of all the clichés about proving to people that you have an education rather than dealing with music as an art form, but to be fair I suppose it is called a "conservatory"--though it shows their arrogance, ignorance and love of "culture" as opposed to art. Hankus eventually told me that there was not enough money in the budget to hire Laurence.

I also asked Ran Blake the same thing in a letter though he did not respond. I also recall my friend Raphe Malik being turned down for a teaching position at NEC and that saddened me because I knew he cold play circles around the trumpet teacher they had at the time and had hoped Raphe would bring more spirit and a different ensemble technique to the students.

Joe Maneri was a school unto himself

Later Bill Dixon showed me an article from Downbeat 1965 "Caught in the Act" by Martin Williams. This was all about Joe Maneri's appearance at the Cellar Club which was the beginning of the October Revolution. Though the article spelled Joe Maneri's name wrong, I knew it was him from the photo. When I asked Joe about that, he denied it and said that he never played in NYC at that time. Bill said he remembered him as the musician who was working out 1/4 tones from Turkish music.

To further elaborate my point, the graduate comprehensive required familiarity with certain musical luminaries of the past. I am referring to the Jazz section of the comprehensive. So of course you had to know who Miles Davis was and who John Coltrane was but when it came to the 60's you had to know who "Weather Report" is. I was able to answer the question but I protested the question later. My conclusion is that "that music" forced them to deal with something they didn't want to deal with. I am referring to the current faculty. It would be interesting to see if the essential musicians from that period are really discussed today but I doubt it.

Q: Were you around when Cecil Taylor was at NEC?

A: The story of Cecil being there took place after I graduated. That was a bit of a fiasco. I was no longer a student there so my participation was as alumni. I understood Cecil's rehearsal technique. It was not like Big Band rehearsing. Each musician had their part and section of players to work it out with and they would rehearse each part simultaneously so there was an incredible buzz in the room but it gave you a sense of the mass of sound Cecil was trying to create.

Most of the students walked out, but a few of us stayed. Most of the pianists walked out. Hankus was concerned that students in the honors jazz ensemble weren't being recognized in this ensemble.

Naturally Hankus wanted the school and particularly the Jazz Department to look good. I was offended by the fact that in conversations Hankus noted that Cecil was a great band leader but not a good teacher. Now I had known many people who had worked with Cecil and in the course of 5 days working with Cecil I decided that Cecil was an excellent teacher but taught from the standpoint of the ensemble. Cecil is a great intellect and a gifted lecturer. I concluded that it was not that Cecil was a bad teacher but that they didn't want to hear what he had to say. After all it was only a few years prior that Cecil was listed in the alumni catalog as a "noted arranger of popular music". But all this was embarrassing and the school issued an honorary degree to Cecil a year or two later.

Only 2 pianists remained, Bennett Pastor and myself. The piece was called "Burning Poles". Bennett asked me what music I mainly do and when I said "this music" he was shocked. Most of the people who stayed to play were not the strongest players in the school but they were open to what Cecil was trying to do. My memory of the piece's execution was that the students did not understand the music and tended to over blow their sounds so a lot of the subtleties of the textures were lost. Cecil did not direct the band on stage but rather was back stage reciting poetry on a microphone with orgiastic screams. There were good musicians in the ensemble. I know Glynis Lomon was there as was Raqib Hassan. I thought it would have been better if Cecil had directed but Cecil didn't want to. It was still an incredible experience. We rehearsed 5 hours a day for a week. I was also arranging a piece of Cecil's at that time called 'Legba Crossing' which I thought was perfectly done though a bit stiff in its directive. I selected players for this myself.

I want to make sure I explain the nature of my studies at NEC. It was mostly academic and in saying that it sounds like I'm putting it down, however these studies were important in some ways and useful. I studied Madame Challoff's "light arm" technique" with one of her students, Greg Silberman and it helped and I was exposed to many interesting things in history and did some interesting transcriptions and I was truly interested in learning. It may also be true that my "bull shit meter" had a low setting, but many of Ran's faculty were young and very inexperienced like they had never been out of school compared to many musicians I had met and known, but I was too young to criticize. I kept to myself and played with a few musicians who I could relate to but if I wanted to do something other than standard material it was especially hard to find a percussionist who could do it. Fortunately Whit Dickey ended up as my classmate and I enjoyed working with him. We did one ensemble piece together and for my senior concert Laurence Cook played drums. My teacher Ran Blake didn't even attend the concert. I kept to myself until I was out of there.

While at NEC there were instances of people putting down Dixon’s work. In general I've decided that it’s a matter of "culture"--Art speaks to you and me but "Culture" speaks to us. So there is a tendency for artists do things that are and will be accepted by the "culture" perhaps unwittingly. I have no problem with that until they try to tell you that they are creating art.

Basically the response to the avant-garde and Bill Dixon's work was silence and that silence continued through the 80's and into the 90's. Nobody I studied with knew Dixon's work. Hankus Netsky was critical telling me "but he never plays anywhere”. I heard a story from that time at a meeting with the arts council where the writer Bob Blumenthal asked Bill why he never played in Boston and Bill answered, “because people like you don't make it possible".

Another story: When I was a new student and didn't know anybody at NEC, Hankus took me around and introduced me to a group of composers sitting at a lunch table and introduced me as a student of Bill Dixon, which of course embarrassed me because I don't wish to hide under anyone's reputation. There was a long silence and Hankus asked if they knew who he was and they said "yes" but were very cold. This attitude pervades a provincial city like Boston, while at the time New York City already had SOUND UNITY and now has the VISION FESTIVAL.

Q: How would you compare the two experiences? Which experience provided the better training for what you do in music?

A: It would be easy to say that Bill Dixon's knowledge and teaching ability far exceeded anyone that I have known and that he really showed me how you learn everything in the ensemble which in turn made everything else seem academic. Hostility aside, NEC had valuable information to offer, and it must be said that if you are surrounded by 10 pianists who play better than you, in a certain kind of way, you naturally get better. This is what Bennington lacked, and I blame the college for turning down qualified students Bill tried to get admitted to the college. In each case Admissions would devise a different reason for not accepting them which you have to admit was quite creative.

I know the history a little. If it wasn't for Gunther Schuller NEC wouldn't even have the faculty they have, but most were hired in 1969-1970. It’s the current climate that has brought about this negativity towards "this music" and that is in a large part supported by the students. So you can't totally blame a school for the students it puts out, but of course jazz, though still a token art form has become a victim of the same "pitfalls" that plague formal concert music. And this is supported by institutions and again this is what I call "culture". So it is doubtful that if Thelonious Monk was alive he would be able to win the "THELONIOUS MONK COMPETITION"

I think this may be a Bill Dixon quote, but I saw it in action.

Q: Do you have a favorite Bill Dixon Album?

A: You also asked what my favorite Dixon album was and I haven't heard every recording Bill has made and the recordings I've heard are all excellent. I met Bill right around the time he had done November 1981 and when I graduated Bill gave me an autographed copy which I still cherish and it says written in Bill's handwriting:

"Endeavor strongly not to make the first compromise so you won't have to spend a lifetime making excuses for the rest that will naturally follow"

Thoughts took me longer to relate to though it ultimately changed my thinking. I had attended that recording/performance and remember some microphones were moved around the room while musicians were playing. I like the effect of the piano being distant on this. "Intents and Purposes" greatly influenced my thinking on writing and playing in an ensemble. I can't say precisely why, but vaguely 2 words: instrumentation and orchestration.

At various points the cross voicing and resultant texture is so deceptive that I can't tell what instruments I'm listening to. For a long time I didn't even notice the sequence that moves behind Byard Lancaster's solo. I think there is always a reminder to work with simplicity for example how 2 notes played beautifully with the right sound, attack, duration and placement can be so alluring, but of course there is also the line writing and its attractive balance of tension and release.

The albums with Laurence were very special to me. Laurence is also one of my mentors. I learned to use space from him.

Q: Can you tell me about your trio with Laurence and John Voight? How did you meet? Would you say that Dixon’s pedagogy and music has an influence on the music?

A: While I had known of Laurence Cook when I was a student at Bennington College in 1982, I didn’t play with him until 1986 when I was a graduate student at NEC. At the time, I was very frustrated with the way drummers played. The approach was often very inflexible and many would tell me that I dragged time or was too slow or too fast. I played a little with Whit Dickey before he left for NYC and he was fun and creative
to play with.

I met Laurence again at Charlie’s Tap in Central Sq. Cambridge sitting at the bar. He remembered me and gave me his card. He was very warm and said “you never know”. Craig Schildhauer brought his bass on the bus to play with me where I was at Grad School. That meant a lot to me. I began playing with Craig and Laurence every week. We played for several years but never played out until 1992.

My first gig with them was at the Collonade Hotel in Boston. It was an international hotel and some of the people really liked the music while others looked annoyed. I was again encouraged. I still have recordings of that evening.

Initially many of the pieces we did were prepared in a strict way with specific instructions. Many had “heads” or obvious expositions that gave us a place to start. We did a wide range of pieces from lines, tone rows, short wave radio, and even a standard like Ornette Coleman’s PEACE. There was always a relaxed give and take within the ensemble.

I learned how to place my sound with Laurence and Craig. They made it easy and they never took anything too seriously so that we could explore and find out what we could do even if it didn’t work. Laurence would just laugh and say “play the pretty chords” and I would just drop these sounds in place and they would hang there mulching and fermenting in the puddle of splashing cymbals. Craig used more bow than anybody I had worked with which I thought magnified the group sound. I could really play duets with Craig. He would play all over what I was doing almost like a horn player.

I had always wanted to play with John Voigt and after Craig left Boston I began working with John Voigt in 2001 (I think). John has been a musician I have always admired and been able to learn from. I have seen him in perform many situations.

It’s difficult to say how someone influences you because you must create your own music. Bill Dixon gave me more encouragement in that area than anybody. He impressed upon me that you could collect things on the instrument just by working with sounds, chords, lines, intervals etc…. They did not have to come from standard pieces and no amount of practicing standard material would help you play this way. Everything had to be invented for this music. There were many things Bill Dixon had said to me that continue to resurface in my thinking. Many were questions and some were facts:

There was always the question of beginnings and endings.

How to leave space so that each musician is allowed to say what they need to say?

How to listen, to hear what to play so the group can get a fine sampling of the various types of blends that are possible?

How you can imply momentum without playing fast.

How you can bring your sound into the sounds of the other instruments and create intensity without playing too loud and then work up to a louder or fierier palate (or perhaps lure the listener into the experience.)

Use the whole piano.

When does a musical idea become tired and expire?

When is a sequence appropriate?

If you use the right touch and register you will be able to both project and sing with the other instruments.

What is the appropriate balance between the pedaled and the un-pedaled sounds?

From Monk I think I learned if you hit the piano in the right space and time you can make everybody jump out of their seat.

I learned how to work with masses of sound (i.e. different saturations and super saturations of sound that can be produced by large numbers of instruments).

I learned how the tuning of instruments can continually change (the microtonal expression inherent in the instruments) and the limitless possibility of sound production from the most pristine sound to noise.

What are the possible combinations within the ensemble and what sorts of entrances and exits are possible and can sustain the curve of the music?

If there is a solo where should it occur and what character should it have and what kind of support and balance of textures are entered into and maintained around it. Will the solo or its surroundings be rhythmic, horizontal, vertical etc?

Of course I learned from listening to Bill’s playing: his sense of continuity, one that required less repetition, and exquisite form in his sense of the 'long line'. All This reflects back to my first composition assignment which involved writing solo pieces for each instrument. How can the solo sound like many instruments? Bill Dixon allowed me to articulate the inherent possibilities

Q: What are you working on now? What’s coming up for Eric Zinman?

A: I am working more on music than ever before in my life. The opportunities are still what I make of them. I expanded from my initial ensemble where everything began. I have reached out across the globe looking for fresh experiences perhaps more now because I am more confident in what I am doing and have a better idea of what I want. I would like to do more large-group writing and playing and I will have some of that experience in Vienna this fall largely because of Mario Rechtern and Fritz Novotny. I am still perfecting my small ensemble with John Voigt and Laurence Cook. I am creating more pieces at the piano and I have added the euphonium to my arsenal of sounds. I am also very excited about some upcoming releases of recordings with Syd Smart, Glynis Lomon, and Mario Rechtern.

Matt Weston 6 May 2007 7:30 AM (17 years ago)

For years now Matt Weston has endured the consequences of being technologically and aesthetically ahead of his time. When released, Matt's recording Vacuums had precious little antecedent, resonant to but a few. Now it's called EA I, and everyone is feeling good about using their big words to talk about it.

Since that time Matt has not been idle. A consummate percussionist/musician/composer and bright light in the unincorporated anti bullshit league, Matt Weston graciously answered the Dixon Society's questions.

Thank you Matt!

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The Dixon Society: When did you first hear the music of Bill Dixon? What were the circumstances?

Matt Weston: I first heard Bill Dixon at the Music Faculty Concert at the beginning of my freshman year at Bennington College, Fall Term, 1991. He was playing in a trio with trumpeter-composer Arthur Brooks and percussionist Gary Sojkowski.

Q: Where were you in your musical development?

A: Even though I'd been playing drums since I was 8, I was more interested at that time in playing guitar and bass and writing and recording songs. I recorded something like 30 or 40 songs over the previous three years, and since I could only see myself continuing along those lines, I didn't see how any music studies at Bennington would fit into that plan, but various records and events conspired to start derailing me from this path.

Every college music program I'd investigated would have just compounded the sterile agony of being The Percussionist in An Orchestra. I'd had enough of that in high school. On my one visit to Bennington prior to attending I heard nothing whatsoever about Bill Dixon or the Black Music Division (in past or present incarnations), and was instead encouraged to sit in on a class taught by Lou Calabro (I've often wondered how many prospective students were deliberately steered away from sitting in on Bill's classes -- because it's no secret that the administration was/is racist). It was a thoroughly depressing experience: theoretical cleverness for its own sake seemed to be the paramount concern, whereas actually saying something (or, more importantly, challenging the students to say something) was not on anyone's radar. And every student in the class was roundly affirmed, no matter how half-baked their ideas were. The actual execution of said ideas didn't even come up -- I was later to learn that writing unplayed/unplayable, and therefore unheard, pieces was something of a Bennington Music Division tradition in pointlessness. That night I attended a vocalist's senior concert. I was absolutely floored at how fundamentally mediocre it was, and my hosts agreed with me, basically saying that the music division is something of a joke. I asked my hosts if that vocalist would be allowed to graduate. "Of course," was their reply. So I had no intention whatsoever of studying music at Bennington. I didn't even bring my drums freshman year.

Q: What music had influenced you previously and how did Dixon's music sound set against that backdrop?

A: As for what music influenced me previously, it's difficult for me to be concise about that. The first music I remember hearing was The Beatles Second Album and the Count Basie Trio's For The First Time, which I heard around the same time. From that point on followed that influence (I didn't hear them as musics that were necessarily distinct from or opposed to one another, and they weren't introduced to me as such). When I started playing drums the only way I was able to learn was by listening. I obsessively played along to records -- some of the more significant ones were the MC5 compilation Babes In Arms; the first Clash album; the Replacements’ Let It Be; the Jimi Hendrix Experience's Are You Experienced; and, on a couple of occasions when I felt particularly adventurous, the Who's Live At Leeds). I was always able to play something that a teacher played for me, but had a hard time making sense of written music, the archaic hurdle of which is still something I've never come to terms with. Anyway, once I started listening to the Who, my fate was sealed. In fact, the line from the Who to this music is ridiculously clean and direct: as instrumentalists they ignored (as opposed to actively fought against) their traditionally-prescribed roles. Plus, there was this absurd level of awkward, unselfconscious drama. In certain ways, these were the qualities I looked for in music (consciously or otherwise) from that point on. The Who led me to the MC5, the Velvet Underground, Jimi Hendrix, Husker Du, Green, James Brown, and later Public Enemy. After I became immersed in This music, I started re-connecting the threads; it turns out the MC5 wanted to sound like Albert Ayler, Hendrix wanted to be Coltrane, and Pete Townshend was a huge Sun Ra fanatic.

I had spent the year or so prior to Bennington living in a tiny apartment in Chicago, working full time, and trying to make a go of the band I was in (I was playing bass guitar, singing, and writing the songs). We went nowhere much faster than I thought we would, and I was at loose ends in terms of what I'd be doing musically. However, during this time, there were a handful of records that dramatically opened me up to new possibilities.

One was the Stooges' Fun House, something my brother insisted I listen to (he had actually tried to get me to listen to Albert Ayler a year earlier; for whatever reason, I just couldn't hear it). There was nothing unfamiliar-sounding about it; after all, at that point I'd already duly digested Sonic Youth's Sister and Daydream Nation (for which Fun House was essentially the jumping-off point). But when I heard the song "L.A. Blues" I immediately thought, "OK. I haven't heard this before. And this is possible." Soon after that I listened to Pere Ubu's Dub Housing (again, foisted upon me by my older brother). I actually hated this record the first time I heard it; I loved it immediately thereafter, and realized that something was happening. There was a thread that had worked itself through all of the music I'd previously listened to (the Who, James Brown, the MC5), and was currently listening to (Public Enemy, the Stooges, Pere Ubu...add Stevie Wonder's 70s works in there, and Television's Marquee Moon), and I had this incredibly strong sense that it was leading me somewhere. I had no idea where until I heard Bill Dixon. At that moment everything perfectly and dramatically fell into place; every connection that needed to be made for me was made the very instant I first heard Bill Dixon. It was one of the only times I'd ever experienced this: I heard exactly what I needed to hear at exactly the moment I needed to hear it, and yet I'd never heard anything like it before (I had a similar reaction to the Charles Gayle - Hugh Glover - Milford Graves - William Parker concert of October 16, 1991). It was as challenging as it was distquietingly familiar. I remember Arthur Brooks characterized an early encounter of his with John Coltrane's music as "like opening the door to the sun." It was like that. Everything I'd ever played and listened to...hell, just everything, period...led directly to that moment. I remember that time at Bennington as being rainy a lot, and as usual I was constantly annoyed by everything, but I felt this sense of almost unbearable excitement and anticipation -- I immediately thought, I'm here for four years, it starts right now, and I'm gonna work as hard as I possibly can to get the most out of this situation. The moment I heard Bill Dixon I made the decision that THIS was what I was going to do, and I tried to remove myself as much as possible from anything that might distract me from it.

Q: Initially you were so underwhelmed with the music offerings at Bennington College that you didn't even consider musical study. Later, you liken a faculty concert by Bill Dixon to "opening the door to the sun." What do you make of the extreme difference in effect? What was it about the un-inspiring music of Bennington College that made it so un-inspiring? What made it so anti-motivational?

A: I couldn't see any difference in the way music was being taught at Bennington from how it was being taught at my high school. Bennington was supposed to allow for that which wasn't allowed in more "traditional" institutions. And the only non-traditional thing I could see in the Music Division was the fact that students were allowed to slide by without being able to compose or play anything; in essence, without learning anything, much less being challenged. The Black Music Division was the polar opposite of this. For Bill, encouraging students and challenging them was the same thing. He wrote and structured pieces around how we played, around our strengths and weaknesses -- this sort of thing did not exist, at any level, in the Music Division -- no one in the music division listened, and none of the students were encouraged to listen, so it was this hopeless vortex of near-comical nothingness.

Not only did Bill expose scores of students to areas of music we hadn't experienced before, it was something that simply did not exist in any other educational institution. And despite being one of the only academic divisions at Bennington to actually take the school at its word (in terms of educational philosophies), the racist Bennington administration did everything they could to prevent the studies of this music from being acknowledged at the school.

Q: How would you compare Dixon's pedagogical methods to the 'norm' as you experienced them at Bennington College? Were they different? Were they more or less effective?

A: My Music Division classes were frustrating. I got into an argument with the Composition teacher about rap. He said, "You really think that's music?!" All I could think was, here we are in the middle of the most seismic revolt in the history of popular music, and you're actually questioning whether or not it's music? And you're my teacher?! As such, the only Music Division class I took was the Composition requirement my freshman year. It seemed like the only thing we were encouraged to aspire to was this base level of "cleverness." At the same time, I was taking Improvisation with Bill. Initially there were a few familiar signposts – lead sheets, standards – but it was taught from a completely different and much more challenging perspective than I’d experienced before. In fact, the one thing I remember from the first classes was the weight and respect with which this music was spoken of and taught. And Bill was incredibly sensitive to whatever level of facility or knowledge the students were at. Unlike the teachers in the Music Division, Bill didn't treat the students as interchangeable automatons. He went to great lengths to force us out of our clichés and bad habits, and to instill confidence in us while not coddling us into complacency -- that's a tricky tightrope to walk, but Bill always maneuvered it expertly. We were also forced to face up to certain things. For instance, he would ask someone to play a solo. Afterwards he’d ask, “Now, did that sound good to you?” He was teaching us to become our own best critics.

Q: What was Dixon's ensemble like? What was the instrumentation when you were there? How were they structured?

A: Let's see if I can remember. Shawn Gould played piano, Mollie McQuarrie played soprano saxophone, Stanley Zappa played baritone, Shannon Jones was the vocalist, I think Mark Leonard was the bassist that term, Dimos Dimitriades was playing alto saxophone, and Vincent Carte and Kip Mazuy were both playing guitar (Bill always used to say to them, "You should play like one instrument, you should be like harps"). I believe trumpeter Mark Sutton and bassist Chris Lightcap were also in the ensemble that term. Vocalist Jonathan Bepler sat in once or twice, and Marco Eneidi sat in a few times. On one occasion we were joined by saxophonist Jack Wright and guitarist Justin Perdue. And Arthur Brooks sat in frequently. Now that I think about it; that was by far the largest Ensemble during my time at Bennington.

I vividly remember my first Ensemble class. I was completely lost and frustrated. I was thinking, "What the fuck? I've listened to John Coltrane and Cecil Taylor and Albert Ayler records hundreds of times; I should know what to do!" (And one thing that really stuck with me from this class session was when I tried to play some standard Free Jazz Drums over a high-velocity saxophone solo. Bill said, “OK. There’s nothing wrong with that approach. But they did that in the 60s and we don’t have to do that anymore.”) Nothing I did worked, I couldn't find my space in the music, and I was getting really down on myself. At the end of class I was putting my drums away, and Bill must have seen the obvious discouragement on my face. He smiled and said, "You'll get it. You'll come along." I can't tell you how much that meant to me at that moment. He heard something in his students that we didn't always (or often) hear, and constantly encouraged us to bring that out. The next night's class was a wonderful blur. Everything was working in the group, everything clicked, and at the end of class Bill gave me a look as if to say, "See?"

Q: Bennington College enjoys the mystique of at least being hospitable to, if not actively fostering all that is avant-garde and radical in arts and letters. Your description of the music division seems to suggest the exact opposite. How was Dixon and Dixon's work perceived by the larger college community while you were there? Would you say the college was helped or hindered Dixon and the Black Music studies?

A: For the most part, Dixon and his work (and, by extension, that of his students) were under the community's radar, at least while I was there (1991-1995). When it did get noticed, the reaction was not only overwhelmingly positive, but there were torrents of questions, mostly along the lines of, "How long has this been going on at Bennington, and why didn't we find out about it earlier?!" Needless to say, the school did less than absolutely nothing to make the community aware of Dixon and his work.

Bill was completely ignored by the administration which, as I understand it, was actually something of an improvement over previous years in which the administration, in all their barely-veiled racism, was overtly hostile to Bill and the Black Music Division. All of the faculty I happened to talk about Bill with were sincerely awed that he was a part of Bennington. Whenever Bill played a concert on campus or made a presentation the room was packed. Members of the administration were conspicuous by their absence. As Bill and Arthur Brooks often said, the Black Music Division took the administration at its word (vis-à-vis the educational philosophies of Bennington) and received nothing but hostility in return

Q: What was playing duets with Dixon like? Was there a noticeable, qualitative difference when playing duets with Dixon than with other musicians?

A: By the time I was a senior, even though I'd done a fair amount of playing with Bill in Ensemble classes, I was still struggling with how to fit (or not) with his approach. The uniqueness of his approach and his use of space doesn't make percussion accompaniment easy. About five minutes into our first duo tutorial session I experienced a sudden and profound change in how I approached percussion. It was like irrevocably stepping over a threshold. The force of Bill's phrasing somehow pushed me into a completely new, but somehow familiar, area of playing. I brought this new approach into my other playing situations (not like I had a choice; the change in my playing was permanent, and I couldn't have gone back to my previous approach if I'd wanted to). Playing duets with Bill was an experience that I have yet to encounter in any other duo situation. I noticed that some other musicians in this music were unable to escape the approach of overtly playing with the other musicians; I was getting less and less interested in what I was hearing in groups like the Schlippenbach Trio, where the musicians seemed to make a point of almost mimicking each other, repeating each others' phrases, and "catching" things. There seemed to be this idea that the best way to show that you as a musician were listening to what the other musicians were doing was to repeat exactly what they were doing; the conversational equivalent would be something along the lines of "Stop repeating everything I say!" "Stop repeating everything I say!" I was completely spoiled by playing duos with Bill; I naively assumed that many other musicians would be interested in attempting something outside of what was fast becoming codified as The Genre Of Free Improvisation.

Q: Of the drummers with whom Dixon has performed, who is your favorite? Do you have a favorite Dixon recording?

A: I get different perspectives from the different percussionists he's played with. I remember I initially disliked the drumming on Intents and Purposes, and that was due to my own narrow biases at the time -- some of it just didn't fit in the traditionally accepted sense, and of course now I realize that that's the beauty of it. I always felt that Freddie Waits was incredibly sensitive, as was Laurence Cook. The first Bill Dixon record I heard was Son Of Sisyphus, and Cook's playing on that played a significant part in my early development as a percussionist in this music. I would say my favorite percussionists who've worked with Bill are Marc Levin and Bob Pozar (my dad, as it turns out, had seen Pozar in a trio with Bob James and Barre Philips in the early 60s in Michigan). They have this simultaneous jagged and cascading quality that I've always liked, and their sound is very deep and broad. As much as I love Tony Oxley's work, and as much as it's inspired me, I sometimes find myself wanting to hear a certain breadth -- maybe it's just something as simple as low sounds -- that I don't hear in his playing. That shouldn't be interpreted as a criticism, though. He's got a beautiful sound, just one that I'm personally not attuned to. That said, my favorite Bill Dixon records are Vade Mecum, the two volumes of Papyrus, and Intents and Purposes. I should also single out "Winter Song 1964 : Section III, Letter F [Alternate Study]" (from the Bill Dixon 7-Tette record) as it's a stunning look into the future of Bill's work, and of this music, the way he smears his phrases across bar lines and pitches (all the more remarkable considering the embouchure trouble he was having at the time).

Q: What are your thoughts on the recording with Cecil Taylor and Tony Oxley

A: The Dixon/Oxley/Taylor record...I remember when I returned to Bennington after the summer of 1992 Bill was incredibly excited about the duets he'd played with Cecil. He played video of two of the concerts for our class, and it completely fulfilled every expectation you could have about such an event. The sharpness of their focus was almost unbearable, and the way Bill's phrasing challenged Cecil revealed a new dimension in Taylor's playing, a different angle on his sensitivity. I only heard a brief (about two minutes or so) piece from their still-unreleased studio session, with Cecil playing either prepared piano or inside the piano or both; I seem to recall Bill describing it at the time as "very beautiful, academic lines." I think I see things in more dramatic terms, and it was one of those quietly overwhelming works along the lines of Cecil's version of "This Nearly Was Mine." The Victoriaville concert struck me as just as beautiful as the previous Dixon/Taylor duets I'd heard, and the only complaint I have about it is the occasional "catching" of phrases that Tony Oxley engages in. But that's a minor criticism. The negative reaction to this record, particularly by one Nate Dorward in Cadence, made me wonder if Bill had run over Nate's dog or something -- Nate and other critics seemed to have a personal vendetta against Dixon for challenging the orthodoxy of Free Improvisation.

Q: What’s coming up for Matt Weston?

A: I have a percussion + electronics single coming out this spring, and an album coming out in the fall. I feel like the album is something of an antiquated format, and this will be my last such work. From that point forward my releases will be singles or EPs. I'm planning a brief solo tour in the summer and a more lengthy tour (which may or may not include Europe) in the fall. In my recorded work I’m focusing more on multiple overdubs and electronic processing of live percussion, and in my live performance work I’ve been working on erasing the line between percussion and electronics (as well as working on circular breathing, relating to something I learned from Tatsuya Nakatani). My work in Barn Owl continues (with guitarist Chris Cooper and bassist Andy Crespo), somewhat sporadically; the language we've developed no longer needs the constant fine-tuning it needed in the past, and our work now seems to benefit from relatively extended absences. I'm also continuing as a guitarist in Thrillpillow, which is posing constant challenges that I'm learning a lot from.

Taylor Ho Bynum 27 Mar 2007 8:31 AM (18 years ago)

Taylor Ho Bynum first came to the attention of The Dixon Society with his post Dixon on his thought provoking and delightfully well written blog SpiderMonkey Stories. Taylor will be performing with Bill Dixon at this year's Vision Festival. Before that, he is going on tour, performing in a number of different configurations and settings. He has also recently released a new recording on the Firehouse 12 label.

In the midst of all this, Taylor kindly took some time out to talk with the Dixon society.

Thank you Taylor!

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The Dixon Society: When did you first hear the music of Bill Dixon? What were the circumstances? What else were you listening to at the time?

Taylor Ho Bynum: I think I first heard Dixon when I was about 19, when I was spending one semester at the New School Jazz program. (Not a terribly happy one, but important, it helped me define exactly what I DIDN'T want to do as a musician...). Having already spent a year at Wesleyan working with Anthony Braxton, and coming up in high school under Bill Lowe, I was already interested in "post-60's" improvisational styles, listening to a lot of Lester Bowie, some Don Cherry, etc, as well as the usual jazz suspects like Miles, Dizzy, etc. (Like most of us, Miles was and is still probably my most frequent listen.)

A couple of my more sympathetic teachers at the New School mentioned that I must be a big Dixon fan, though I had not yet really listened to him. And of course Braxton and Lowe had spoken of him. So as I talked about in that long blog post, I picked up "November 1981."

Also at this time, Ben Young was still doing his Dixonia radio show on WKCR (once a week he played a couple hours of Dixon), so I would check that out whenever I would get a chance. And I actually had some friends who worked at WKCR, so we would get together there and play sessions, then hit the station library for serious listening (they have some incredible stuff in the archives there). That was a period of serious musical listening education for me, and Dixon's music was a big part of that.

On a side note, that was also the time where I finally really got into Louis Armstrong, of all people. Obviously I had heard his music before, but it was around this period that I finally got it, if you know what I mean, really hearing the brilliance of it rather than just thinking it was old-timey stuff. In some ways, it's interesting this was happening around the same time I was digging into Dixon, and I think there might have been some connection. They both have such simple conviction and strength in their playing, not about tricky harmony or fast notes but about sound and space.

Q: What prompted you to go to the new school and what was it about that curriculum and experience that turned you off?

THB: I went to Wesleyan from 1993-94, then dropped out and biked from Vancouver to San Francisco in the fall of 94. I moved to NYC early 95, went to the New School fall 95, then returned to Wesleyan spring 96, and finished there fall of 97.

I had an inspiring musical experience my freshman year at Wesleyan, but wasn't really happy there for other reasons, and needed some time out of school. I didn't play that much that next year; I took a long bike trip down the West Coast and lived in San Francisco for a couple of months, then moved to New York. After a year off, I wanted to rededicate myself to music, and after the very open musical environment of Wesleyan, I thought it would be good to get a stronger traditional technical background, and went to the New School. However, I really disliked the jazz conservatory environment of the New School, after having such open-minded and creative mentors, the New School vibe was stultifying. It wasn't really the instructors' fault, there are some very good teachers there, it was more the student body, fetishizing the music of the 50s (though I did find a few like-minded souls.) After one semester there, it was clear to me that Braxton's pedagogical style and the creative community of Wesleyan were much more up my alley.

Q: Can you tell us how study with Braxton at Wesleyan was structured? How many classes did you take with Braxton and/or within the area of this music? Were there any other professors at Wesleyan dealing with the music?’ Did Braxton have an ensemble? If so, what was the instrumentation and what were those rehearsals like? Was there written music? Specific pieces or did the class 'just' improvise?

THB: At Wesleyan, Braxton teaches an ensemble class (that focuses on his composed large ensemble music, as well as his principles of language improvisation, ghost trance music, etc), music history classes (such as "The music of Coleman, Coltrane, and Mingus" or "Sun Ra and Stockhausen"), and composition seminars for graduate students. His ensemble class met twice weekly, and probably was my most important entree into his music. The instrumentation and size of the ensemble varied from semester to semester, from balanced fifteen piece groups with reeds, brass, and strings, to 50 piece orchestras with multiple guitarists, melodica players, and singers. I think between the six semesters I spent at Wesleyan as an undergraduate, and the four semesters as a graduate student, I took this ensemble class 10 times. (Even more, really...I would swing though Middletown and sit in even when I wasn't enrolled at the school.) Some really profound early musical lessons there, but I also got a lot out of his seminars, and of course the one-on-one compositional critiques were priceless. Though obviously, since then, I've learned more from him in life and on the bandstand than I ever could have in the classroom, the classroom taught me the basic language to get into it all. The vibraphonist Jay Hoggard and drummer Pheeroan akLaff also teach at Wesleyan, and are both very important teacher/mentor/friends for me.

Q: After hearing November 1981 were you 'sold' on Dixon? Was there another recording or experience that cemented Dixon's place in your mind?

THB: As far as November 1981, I was "sold" on Dixon pretty immediately. Around that time, I also became close friends and collaborators with trumpeter Stephen Haynes, who of course has a long and intimate association with Dixon's music, so got some insight into his ideas and processes, which helped me appreciate the music more.

Q: Another question about the Wesleyan experience:

You said

"The instrumentation and size of the ensemble varied from semester to semester, from balanced fifteen piece groups with reeds, brass, and strings, to 50 piece orchestras with multiple guitarists, melodica players, and singers."

From your reply, it would appear that there was a significant a degree of organization dedicated to and interest in this music at Wesleyan. How was this music received by the Wesleyan community at large? Did Braxton enjoy support or did he endure skepticism and derision (or both?)

THB: Like any small community in the bubble of academia, the level of interest and support, on both the institutional and student level, for 'this music' waxed and waned at Wesleyan, but there was a general appreciation and open-mindedness there, if not complete understanding or a consistent audience. In the larger argument/discussion about jazz and academia, I do think it interesting that I find more vibrant creative artists around today that came out of the 'liberal arts' environments of Wesleyan or Bennington, even with a much smaller pool of musicians, than came out of the 'conservatory' environments of Berklee or Julliard or wherever. Again, that's a gross generalization, I know some brilliant folks who attended Berklee and some total hacks that went to Wesleyan, but there is a larger pattern there. (Basically, studying things other than music is good for your music. And having musical geniuses around is helpful too.)

Q: Getting back to Dixon, how did November 1981 change you/your music/your trumpet playing? Would you say there was a 'before Dixon v. after Dixon' in your playing? What did you hear in Dixon's music that didn't hear elsewhere?

and

After November 1981, do you remember the next recording you heard? Do you hear a different Dixon in say, Vade Mecum or Papyrus? Do you have a favorite period of Dixon's work or a favorite album?

THB: I'd say two things were most immediately impacted me from November 1981. First of all, just the incredible expansion of the trumpet's possibilities in terms of timbre, digging in extremes in both the upper and lower registers, breaths, half valves, etc etc. (Particularly interesting since Dixon almost never uses any mutes, the usual means for brass timbral manipulation.) Yet still connected to a powerful sense of melody and line. The other 'avant' trumpet players I'd listened to at that point (Don Cherry, Lester Bowie, etc) still stayed closer the 'jazz conventions' of harmony and form. Dixon really opened that up, really painting with sound and line.

Second, his sense of phrasing and timing. Dixon's got a dramatic sense of space that is reminiscent of Miles Davis, yet in a totally open rhythmic environment. Almost like Miles gave a sense of space and silence to the frenetic style of 'bebop', for me, Dixon gave a sense of space and silence to the frenetic style of 'free jazz'. (Forgive the generalizations, I tend to hate those terms but it simplifies things I guess...damn semantics of music writing!)

I honestly don't remember the next Dixon record I heard, but that was the point I really began digging into his discography. November 1981 is probably still my favorite partly for sentimental reasons, since it was my first listen, and it is sort of a perfect mid-career statement, summing up his previous work and hinting at his future endeavors. I really enjoy and get different things out of all of the various periods of his work, like Miles or Ellington or Braxton or anyone with a 40 plus year artistic career, part of the joy of it is following the evolutions and progressions of a creative individual over time, each period provides a different lesson yet is essentially connected to the overall body of work.

Q: Can you talk a little about Dixon's events at Wesleyan in 2005? How do you compare Dixon and Braxton's approach to the large ensemble?

THB: Their basic approaches are very different...Anthony will present a large body of composed or conceived materials, and specific rules of engagement to those materials, but the players have full freedom in implementing those rules and dealing with those materials in practice and performance. Bill will bring in less pre-composed materials, sometimes as simple as a melodic line or a single voicing, but in practice will actively and specifically shape those materials into something more. It's interesting, both composers present systems that allow (and demand) input from the performers, and trust the performers to bring their own sensibilities and aesthetics into the music, but almost on opposite sides of the equation as to when that input happens.

Q: What's coming up in your future?

THB: I would prefer to answer on a more conceptual level of where I'd like to go next, particularly as they relate to a discussion of Dixon's work and influence. One of the periods of Dixon's music that particularly inspires me is the solo music of the 70s (as documented on the Odyssey set), where you can hear him actively challenging and expanding the possibilities of his own playing. These days, with the time demands and stresses of New York, I feel I can barely keep up my basic technical and rudimentary practice to keep my chops together. I am generally happy with the music I am creating as a composer and an improviser, but I feel like I am pulling from the well of what I already know I can do. I feel my next step is devising and defining a personal practice method and artistic routine to physically and creatively challenge myself to reach beyond what I can already do, to hear new things, to play in new ways. Hopefully I can find a way to do that without having the solitude and focus of the Vermont woods!

When Is Bill Dixon? 11 Feb 2007 4:30 PM (18 years ago)

Bill Dixon

b. October 5, 1925, Nantucket, MA

+ + +

Also born in 1925:

Sammy Davis Junior, December 8, 1925
B.B. King, September 16, 1925
Oscar Peterson, August 15, 1925
Johnny Carson, October 23, 1925
Luciano Berio October 24, 1925
Pierre Boulez, March 25, 1925
Teo Macero, October 30, 1925
Zoot Sims, October 29, 1925
Cal Tjader, July 16, 1925

Nat Hentoff, June 10, 1925
Gore Vidal, October 3, 1925
Lenny Bruce, October 13, 1925
Flannery O'Connor, March 25, 1925
Yukio Mishima, January 14, 1925

Malcolm X, May 19, 1925
Pol Pot, May 19, 1925
Medgar Wiley Evers, July 2, 1925
Margaret Thatcher, October 13, 1925
Robert Kenedy, November 20, 1925

+ + +

In 1925:

Duke Ellington, born 29 April 1899, is 26 years old
Louis Armstrong, born August 4, 1901, is 24 years old
Thelonious Monk, born October 10, 1917, is 8 years old
Charlie Parker, born 29 August 1920 is 5 years old
Sam Rivers, born September 25, 1923, is 2 years old

1 year later    John Coltrane is Born, September 23, 1926
1 year later    Miles Davis is born, May 25, 1926
4 years later   Cecil Taylor is born, March 15, 1929
5 years later   Sonny Rollins is born, September 9, 1930
5 years later Derek Bailey is born, January 29, 1930
6 years later   Jimmy Lyons is born,  December 1, 1931
11 years later  Albert Ayler is born, July 13, 1936
13 years later  Tony Oxley is born, June 15, 1938
14 years later  Charles Gayle is born, February 28, 1939
15 years later  Keith Rowe is born,  March 16, 1940
16 years later  Peter Brötzmann is born,  March 6, 1941
19 years later  Evan Shaw Parker is born,  5 April 1944
20 years later  Anthony Braxton is born,  June 4, 1945
27 years later  William Parker is born,  January 10, 1952
28 years later  John Zorn is born,  September 2, 1953
39 years later  Ken Vandermark is born,  September 22, 1964

+ + +

In 1925:

Ansel Easton Adams, born February 20, 1902 is 23 years old
Mark Rothko, born September 25, 1903, is 22 years old
Jackson Pollock, born 28 January 1912, is 13 years old
Rober Motherwell, born January 24, 1915, is 10 years old
Roy DeCarava born December 9, 1919 is 6 years old

3 years later  Andy Warhol is born on August 6, 1928
5 years later  Jasper Johns is born on May 15, 1930

+ + +

In 1925:

Samuel Holloway Bowers, born August 6, 1924 is 1 year old
(in 1924 Ku Klux Klan membership estimated at 6,000,000)

4 years later, Martin Luther King, Jr. is born January 15, 1929

+ + +

1925 - Calvin Coolidge is the President of the United States
1925 - Erik Satie died
1925 - Adolph Hitler publishes Vol. I of Mein Kampf
1925 - John T. Scopes is arrested on May 5 for teaching the theory of evolution
1925 - Federal spending $2.92 billion
1925 - F. Scott Fitzgerald published The Great Gatsby
1925 - The Chrysler Corporation is founded
1925 - The Sphinx in Egypt is dug out.
1925 - The Sears Catalog sells Thompson submachine guns for $175

+ + +

2005 - 2006 21 Jan 2007 5:24 PM (18 years ago)

Wesleyan University, February 11, 2005

Bill Dixon - Conductor

Co-Ordinated by Andrew Raffo Dewar and Professor Eric Charry

Wesleyan Creative Music Ensemble

Zara Acosta (Bb clarinet)
Nale Ash-Morgan (trombone)
Matt Bauder (tenor saxophone)
Josh Bryant (guitar)
Taylor Ho Bynum (cornet, flugelhorn)
Jennifer Caputo (timpani)
Jonathan Chen (violin)
Amy Crawford (piano)
Andrew Raffo Dewar (soprano saxophone)
Max Heath (piano)
David Jensenius (computer)
David Kadden (oboe/English horn)
Jessica Kellar (piano)
Andrew Lafkas (double bass)
Joe Mariglio (closed feedback loop circuitry)
Luke Mecklenburg (lap steel guitar)
Nick Nauman (guitar)
Angela Opell (clarinet)
Anne Rhodes (voice)
Phillip Schulze (live electronics)
Aaron Siegel (vibraphone)
Carl Testa (double bass)
Adam Tinkle (alto saxophone)
Jessada Wharton (guitar)

+ + +

Vision Festival, June 17 2005

Bill Dixon - Trumpet

Andrew Lafkas - Double Bass

Steve Horenstein - Bass Flute, Bariton Saxophone

Warren Smith - Vibes

Tony Widoff - Piano, Synthesizer

+ + +

Font Festival, August 2 2005

Bill Dixon - Trumpet

Borah Bergman - Piano

Glynis Lowman - Cello

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All About Jazz August 20, 2005

Bill Dixon: The Morality of Improvisation

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The Stone, New York, October 2005 (part of the Don Cherry celebration)

Bill Dixon - Trumpet

Henry Grimes - Double Bass

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Paris, Centre Pompidou, January 21 2006, Sons D'Hiver Festival

Bill Dixon - Trumpet

Joe Giardullo - Soprano and Tenor Saxophone

Warren Smith - Vibes, Timpany

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Vision Festival, NYC, June 2006

Bill Dixon - Trumpet

George Lewis - Trombone, Electronics

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Guelph, Canada, September 2006

Bill Dixon - Trumpet

Joele Leandre - Double Bass

Marc Medwin 1 Jan 2007 11:52 AM (18 years ago)

Previous to the inception of The Dixon Society, the prolific and eloquent Marc Medwin posted two articles for consideration by the think tank that is Bagatellen. These insightful articles and, more to the point, the undeniable reactions that followed were pivotal in the decision to create The Dixon Society and establish this unofficial outpost of the Institute for Black Music Studies Research and Performance.

It seemed somehow seemed pre-ordained that Marc should be the first Friend of Bill Dixon to be interviewed. Among other things, Marc talks about his path to Dixon and the hysteria he's encountered along the way.

Thank you Marc Medwin!

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The Dixon Society: When did you first hear Bill's music? What where the circumstances? What did you hear?

Marc Medwin: I didn't hear his music until after I'd heard about his ability to tell a story. It was probably about a year and a half ago, and I remember deciding that I'd better investigate this trumpet player at some point. I was doing a really deep study of Cecil Taylor's music, so I heard Conquistador, but honestly, I didn't really concentrate on what Dixon was doing there--I was mainly listening to Taylor, which I now see was a big mistake.

Then, I heard a disc of Taylor, Dixon and drummer Tony Oxley in a trio performance at Victoriaville 2002. That changed everything. I really listened to Dixon for the first time, but I also heard the other two musicians, whose work I thought I knew, in a decidedly different and entirely new context. This would have been last January when that happened. Do you want more detail on what I heard, or about anything else I've said here? As Dixon says so often, I just want to be clear.

Q: Tell us about the nature and circumstances behind your study of Cecil Taylor

M. M.: I first heard his music, or rather his music in contrast with his voice, on Marian McPartland's Piano Jazz--this must have been in 1986, but we'll have to look that one up. I knew nothing about his work, and the only "free" "jazz" I'd heard to that point was some of Chic Corea's work with Braxton in the band Circle--the Paris Concert where they play Nefertiti. The upshot was that I wasn't entirely unaware of the language Taylor was using, so I continued to listen. However, it was his voice that really got me! On that occasion, he was very quiet, and I remember that when McPartland concluded a standard, I think it was Chelsea Bridge, he said "That was beautiful." What? How could you just say that when you played the ugliest, nastiest... except that voice, and those quiet passages...

So I had to think, and I didn't confront Taylor's music again until 2005, when I was ready to do so.

Taylor's music taught me how to listen on a larger scale, maybe something I should have learned from late Coltrane, and Dixon got me listening to details again. I first found Taylor's music easier to digest if I absorb, then later analyze specific moments. I have spoken with him on several occasions, and while he has been forthcoming on many subjects, the construction of his music is not one of them. I don't blame him.

Q: I know you are a piano player, and clearly you are well listened. Tell us a little about your personal involvement in music (then and now) and how you came to investigate Taylor's (and later Dixon's) music in 2005 when (in your words) "you were ready to do so?" What was going on for you in 2005? What were you listening to prior to
that time?

MM: You asked for it: You have to understand that music has, until very recently, been a very private experience for me. I certainly improvised as a child, but I very rarely showed anything to anybody. I never wanted to write songs, which is what I was always told you were supposed to do, and the few people I showed my music said it was fragmented, had no melody, was like a collage--you get the idea? So I was somewhat discouraged, thinking that what those fantastic musicians I was listening to were doing had nothing to do with what I was doing--I felt as if we lived on separate planets. One of my first musical heroes was Frank Zappa, because he got away with all that collage amidst some song structures and some extraordinarily complex music. Then it was Pink Floyd, Hendrix, King Crimson, Yes--mainly things in the "progressive" arena, until my next door neighbor introduced me to Fred Frith in 1986—that changed everything.

1985-1986 was a very important year for me, as I was given a decent stereo, had a Bar Mitzvah and was given gift certificates to local record stores by almost everyone. I got to explore, purchasing everything from Keith Jarrett to the earliest Muddy Waters recordings—you know those 1941-42 discs that Lomax made? They also were a formative influence on me. The stereo meant that I could hear details I'd never heard before, so listening became a different experience every time I did it.

The first jazz I really studied, moment to moment, was Duke Ellington—this would have been the same year, probably early 1986, when I found some LP reissues of the Cotton Club Material. I'd heard early Louis Armstrong, and while I noticed the similarities between 1920s Ellington and what Louis was doing, Ellington kept me coming back more frequently in those days. Black and Tan Fantasy really floored me--the chords in the bridge, the non-blues section, with the beautiful saxophone over them and the chromatic harmonies during the break before it is repeated--I can hear it all in my head any time I want. I'm talking about the RCA version, with that fantastic Bubber Miley muted trumpet! My studies in classical piano (oh how I hated them!) showed me it was Chopin quoted at the end of the tune, and I thought that was brilliant!

I should also give a big thank you to NPR, without whose late-night programming I'd never have heard the many things I now treasure. It was there that I first heard Ellington's Carnegie Hall concert of 1943, and the impact almost made me sick. Was this possible? Did the same person that wrote those "jungle" pieces write Black, Brown and Beige? Then I had to buy everything by Ellington that I could, and Emmerson Lake and Palmer just didn't do it for me in the same way. I'd come back to art-rock later. In 1986 and 1987, it was Ellington, King Oliver, Fats Waller, the Bennie Goodman Carnegie Hall concert of 1938, Chick Webb's band--that is, as much as I could afford by all these people! I remember buying things for my parents on holidays that I really wanted to hear so I could get away with it--for some reason, they did not look favorably on my buying records.

From 1988-1991, I was back into art-rock, but it was Henry Cow, National Health, Soft Machine, Gong--in short, things with more of a jazz influence. Then, in 1991, I heard the Bartok third string quartet under what we'll just call interesting conditions, and then it was an eight-year journey though classical music, beginning with Bartok and stretching out, simultaneously backwards and forwards.

It was only after I stopped taking piano lessons, when I went off to college that I began to enjoy playing. I have always been fascinated by electronics, and I pretended I was Jan Hammer that summer we both were at Berklee in 1989--one of the best summers of my life! Of course, my classical phase lead me to Varese, Xenakis, Ligeti (to whom I once sent five of my own compositions but got no response) and Nancarrow.

In brief, I took five years to get into musicology grad school after getting a degree in English. I got my history chops up, learned to play continuo voicings to realize figured bass, that sort of thing. I listened the whole time, Penderecke, Mahler, Schonberg, Sorabji--you name it I ate it up! When I entered grad school in 2000, I never thought I'd study jazz! I was going to do a dissertation on Messiaen, and I even got a proposal written and defended on the subject.

I've not spent too much time on Trane, because that's difficult to discuss. The first time I heard late Coltrane was on a weekly show that was dedicated to the Grateful Dead, who’s 60s and 70s work I enjoy very much. I don't even know what was played, but it was so disturbing to me that I didn't want to hear it--Duke Ellington was easier to take! In 1992, I was in a college class where the opening of Meditations was played, and I decided then that I needed to listen to this music at some point. All those shofar-fifths and that small melodic fragment exuding such power, springing up like a flower amidst the concrete rattlings, rusty janglings, tonal, even familiar, but so far away from recognizability ...

The time came in 1999, during the summer, when another neighbor let me borrow the Village Vanguard Master-takes, and India proved to be another of those formative moments. All that fantastic music, excitement and energy followed by about six people clapping! I went out and bought everything by Coltrane that I could find--box sets and reissues of all sorts; this was the beginning of a split in my focus. Here I was studying classical music, while this growing re-appreciation of jazz was brewing.

Grad school was ... well, what grad school is, an endurance test--exam after exam, papers, boatloads of reading nobody completes, let's be honest about it, and the masters thesis, which I chose to do on Coltrane! I never thought I'd do that, it was a blast, I thought I'd have two areas from which to create academic credibility--great!! Then the dissertation, for which I defended the Messiaen proposal in 2004--everybody was happy. Except me.

Just after defending that proposal, I got introduced to some local musicians, I started playing keyboards again, even in public, I began to write reviews and features for magazines, I started meeting musicians ... I love Messiaen's music to this day, dearly, but the rift between my studies and my passion was growing.

When I made the decision to switch topics in 2005, everything changed. I could dedicate myself, freely and without restraint, to the music about which I care more every day. I could study all aspects of it, from the earliest contentious utterances of the ODJB to Cooper-Moore's work for Hopscotch.

I studied Taylor's work in the same way I studied Sun Ra's--a hell of a lot of listening, try to pick out some things on the piano, skeletons of things at first and then try to speak the language as best I could.

Then came Dixon.

I feel now as if I'd been preparing for Dixon's work from the time I really became serious about music, and I'm not even sure when that was. His music demands as much repeated listening, study and absorption as he puts into it. The rewards match the effort. I should say here that at first, I enjoyed our conversations even more than the music. It wasn't until late March, 2006, that I heard, really and truly perceived the absolute genius in his solos. I was listening to disc 4 of Odyssey after a gig one night, and I had one of those moments of ... knowing? Revelation? Hard to describe to anyone that hasn't experienced it--it isn't like "Wow what a great passage" or "that piece went beautifully into the next." Best I can do is say, as I've said elsewhere, that I evolved, that something opened up and allowed me a larger perspective on everything I thought I understood. I tried to explain this to Dixon the next day, and his response was "You can't stop there. It's not enough to listen to Odyssey once in a while and have a moment or two of clarity." He was absolutely right--it was only the beginning of the very logical process of coming to terms with a body of work that exist in, of and for itself.

Q: Here is a list of the musicians you mentioned and the order in which you mentioned them.

Frank Zappa, Pink Floyd, Hendrix, King Crimson, Yes, Fred Frith, Keith Jarrett, Muddy Waters, Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Bubber Miley, Chopin, Emmerson Lake and Palmer, King Oliver, Fats Waller, Bennie Goodman, Henry Cow, National Health, Soft Machine, Gong, Bartok, Jan Hammer, Varese, Xenakis, Ligeti, Nancarrow, Penderecke, Mahler, Schoenberg, Sorabji, Messiaen, The Grateful Dead, John Coltrane, ODJB, Cooper-Moore, Cecil Taylor, Sun Ra, Bill Dixon.

Q: Do you have a 'unified theory' on all these musicians? What was it about them and not someone else?

M.M.: No, I don't have a unified theory about them. I chose them because they seemed to fit the context of what I was saying to you at the time, and yes there were many others! Much of my time has been spent listening, and much of what I hear impacts me in some way.

Q: To put it awkwardly, do you consider Emmerson Lake and Palmer as being in the same (musical) phylum as Schoenberg, and Schoenberg with Fats Waller? What are your thoughts on the mechanism of influence?

M.M.: Not sure how to tackle this one except with yet another reminiscence. I once had an argument with several die-hard fans about whether the Beatles were the greatest musicians of all time--ever. One of my attempted rebuttals to this ridiculous proposition was that music history had to be taken into consideration. In that light, it would be very difficult to put ELP in the same musical phylum(?) as either Schonberg or Waller. Both composers engaged musical form on several levels, and while Waller will most likely continue to be remembered, by most, for some stunning pianism and infectious vocal delivery, his musical scope and vision far exceed such considerations.

Schonberg also wrote popular songs, but of course, they are dwarfed by his other accomplishments. As for ELP, they were far from the first power trio, not the first guitar-less trio, not the first to combine classical and rock forms, not particularly boundary-breaking in form or timbre ... you get my point. Yes I still enjoy listening to them, very occasionally.

Q: Who do you think are Dixon's influences? Who do you hear in Bill Dixon?

M.M.: This is a very difficult and complex question, and I'd qualify my answer by saying that I'm getting more familiar with his music every day, but it's all fairly new to me. Beyond that, I think it depends on what period of his work is under discussion. The first recording for Savoy, the Dixon/Shepp quartet LP from 1962, has a fair amount of tradition on the surface--I hear some Coleman and Mingus, even in the Bernstein interpretation! The four years from that record to Intents and Purposes saw an extraordinary shift in aesthetic, leading me to believe that even in 1962, Dixon's musical vision had really evolved far beyond his work with Shepp. As I've written elsewhere, the piece written for the Conservatory Orchestra of the University of the Streets suggests, or encompasses, or transcends, everything from Ellington to Coltrane's Ascension. It remains fragmentary, but the surviving material as I have heard it speaks to an expansion of Intents and Purpose's sound-world.

I am assuming familiarity with Dixon's work, so let me know what needs to be flushed out. After UOS, influence is increasingly hard to ascribe. To say that I hear Webern in the piece called Webern would be to say that I hear Bach in Webern's own string quartet. The voice is so original, so removed in a very fundamental way, that influence becomes, I'd say, a moot point.

Q: Do you have the same difficult ascribing influence with other artists as you do with Dixon? Can you name any other artists whose voice is as original or as removed as Dixon's?

M.M.: Tough call! Again, I invoke the nightmare of history! Better to say that I don't hear very many moving forward as restlessly as Dixon has been. Yes, the effects he uses remain the same and are used similarly, but what he's doing rhythmically and timbrally continues to evolve. I don't mean to sidestep your question here. I have spent the last few days considering the question of originality--Messiaen seems quite unique to me, as does Coltrane, and Coltrane did pursue a restlessly forward motion throughout his work similar to what I hear in Dixon--not specifically of course, but the idea of development, of ceaseless striving. Of course other artists fit the uncategorizable bill--AMM, Throbbing Gristle, Merzbow--where to begin?

Q: Do you have a favorite period of Dixon's work? A favorite album? If so, what about that period or work do you find exemplary?

M.M.: This answer is not a copout. Dixon's done so many fantastic things throughout the last 42 years that I'd have trouble choosing a favorite period or disc. That said, Papyrus is in constant rotation around here, both volumes, and the trio disc with Taylor and Oxley from Victo 2002. In these more recent recordings, Dixon can evoke a world with one note and the shifts in what I'm clumsily calling timbre from note to note are stunning.

I've never heard a trumpet sound like a flute before, let alone a tuba, and he does both. Lately, I've been listening to his playing on Taylor's Conquistador, and I'm convinced that he helps make that session what it is--great playing all around mind you, but if you'll notice, when it's Dixon's turn to play, everything recedes for him--really a wonderful moment!

Q: I know the receding moment of which you speak. Indeed, that moment encapsulates so much of Dixon's aesthetic, his strident originality and the reaction he so often elicits; shock followed by hysteria either for or against. As mentioned in the introduction, part of The Dixon Society's genesis stems from the reactions on Bagatellen.com to the 2002 Victoriaville recording as well as the reactions to your birthday posting. What is it about Bill Dixon that elicits such strong reactions? Can you think of anyone else who is treated (in the press, at least) in the same way? What do you make of Dixon's treatment by music writers and the press?

M.M.: When I first met Dixon, he told me how his work was ignored, trashed, underappreciated--not in that order--and I thought, "Certainly, another underappreciated ignored reviled musician, I'll file that under unfortunate." It's not that I didn't believe him; I just didn't think his case was unique. I do now. I started realizing that something was strangely afoot when I posted the little piece about the Victoriaville trio, and the reactions are still up, absolutely public. Of all the things I've ever written, none has gotten the kinds of comments that my Dixon pieces have received.

Why? Part of me thinks that he's spent so long making his opinions known, in no uncertain terms, that such reactions are, as you might say, a racing certainty. There's no guessing with Dixon, he doesn't couch his opinions in mystique or in eccentricity. He can be blunt, no, absolutely brutal, always a teacher at heart and an effective if ruthless one, and I have never had a conversation with anyone like him.

None of that should effect how his music is perceived, but I think that it does. My feeling is that we accept inferior music from others because they fit the social/political/racial/spiritual frameworks and modes of discourse we have fashioned to give ourselves comfort regarding this music. Let me say here that I'm no different—I don't like having my feathers ruffled any more than the next person, and Dixon's views and music have done so many times already. No, I've never seen anyone treated like that in the press--I looked. Oh sure, people get their stuff trashed and artists' best works are often misunderstood. This is different--it seems to me that many (you want names?) have attempted to white-wash Dixon's accomplishments, to erase them, to pretend that he didn't do what he did. They lie about it, they take credit for things they didn't do, and they label his music inefficiently, almost in some kind of anti-description mode...

Q: What do you think it is about the Victoriaville trio that elicits such hysteria? What do you think the 'triggers' are? How would you compare that recording to the rest of Dixon's output?

M.M.: OK, I've spent a lot of time thinking about this one. I was going to say that it's the fact that Dixon necessitates entrance into his universe, but every player does that, right? Nobody gives Cecil a hard time these days for releasing box sets of, shall we say, dynamically rigorous imponderables? They come to expect a certain aesthetic from him, and when it isn't forthcoming, they begin to squawk. So it's not that one musician takes the lead--it's something about Dixon's way of playing, something about the particular universe he creates that causes distress or rapture. Dixon's work has always involved a certain degree of space, of pregnant pause, but that has increased over the last fifteen years. Now, colored silence (isn't that Stockhausen?) has pervaded his work, becoming just as important a component of every phrase as is any utterance. In fact, the boundaries are blurred--witness Dixon's pitched clouds of air in the lower registers.

Taylor and Oxley's work with the Feel Trio presents an aesthetic with which Dixon simply refuses to engage. His playing has become self-analytical from moment to moment, each phrase (whatever it entails) carefully molded, judged and acted upon. Do I need to make it clear that I mean no dismissal of his spontaneity? On the contrary—it seems to me that Dixon has reached a crystal center of improvisation in which he is fully aware, analytically and emotionally, of every gesture. Such awareness is formidable enough to make those around you take notice and act accordingly, even two stunningly original talents like Oxley and Taylor. Again, do I really need to say that I respect both immensely? I'm only trying to come to terms with something I hear that goes beyond the stereotypes, negative and positive, associated with a trio date.

Q: What’s been going for Marc Medwin, and what's on the horizion?

M.M.: I gave a paper at the first International Society for Improvised Music meeting in An Arbor Michigan, Dec. 1-3, 2006. It was called: Sequences and Resonances: Improvisation and Composition in the Ensemble Works of Bill Dixon." People kind of came and went throughout my fifty minutes, which they did at all of the events, but I got some very nice responses to what I presented. It was a paper that I'd given at the local AMS in October, but I expanded it, incorporating other pieces and comparing the ensemble works with two tracks from November 1981--Webern and Another Quiet Feeling. The main body was an analysis of Orchestra Piece and Sequences, both from Considerations vol. 2

The other paper, coming up in March, will be presented in Leeds as part of the Leeds International Jazz Conference. It's going to be a study of the music written for the Free Conservatory Orchestra of the University of the Streets. I haven't written it yet.

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Thanks again to Marc Medwin.

Are you a friend of Bill Dixon? Have you performed with Bill Dixon? Did you study with Bill at the University of the Streets, University of Wisconsin/Madison or the Bennington College Black Music Department? We'd love to hear from you! Send an e-mail! The.Dixon.Society@gmail.com

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