Precision AND Lyricism

Lately I find myself working in two musical modes: Lyrical and Precise.

What I mean by that is I’m usually focused on the phrasing and shaping of material, with a sense for pulse and pacing but without aligning to a metronome, OR I’m “cleaning” to subdivisions and/or executing mechanical motions, and total precision is the goal.

The more time I spend back and forth this way, the more I realize how many styles of music have these elements, to the point where I can list basically anything and see how it emphasizes one or the other.

Examples:

Stevens’ Technique vs Repetoire:  What a can of worms this is.  I spent some time studying with Leigh Stevens in 2005, and he consistently expressed concern that people take his book and make it a goal unto itself, rather than learn to play music with his toolkit.  Many people I’ve worked with have identified young players who end up playing very rigidly and without musical direction and sometimes blame Leigh for it. I will make the statement that it is BECAUSE of their overemphasis on the PRECISION element of Stevens technique that this happens.  They’re missing half the point.

My personal example (which is slightly embarrassing) was a real wake-up call for me. After I finished my Masters degree I was building a freelance career, but with no school to attend I had a lot of time on my hands.  I decided to play the complete tempo range of the Stevens’ and Bobo books… at least until my freelance work took off enough to fill that time with something more productive.

About a year later I was roughly 75% of the way done, and my technique was PRECISE.  I mean crazy.

Then I picked up the Zivkovic Funny Marimba book 1 and took a shot at a few pieces. Zivkovic is perhaps the most lyrical of any marimba composer, and transfers that approach brilliantly to the instrument.  I hadn’t played any rep in that year since grad school, since no one was paying me for it.

I couldn’t. play. anything… at all.

As soon as I started singing phrases to myself I found my hands were too locked up and my technique was resisting me instead of serving me. Scary.

That day I resolved to stop doing any technical practice and instead spent all my time learning that Zivkovic book.  It became by warmups, exercises and scratch pad for tone, phrasing and lyricism for the next 2 years.

Today I have a blended approach between the two sides.  I have access to very precise technique and continue to develop my capacity there, but I ALWAYS balance my mechanics with some lyrical development and un-structured phrasing time.

Jazz: Now I’m a rhythm section player, so take that for what it is, but I find this element of Lyricism and Precision to be highly relevant in any “band” situation.

On the one hand, if you’re playing rhythm backups or section wind parts with lots of articulations, precision is utterly necessary.  I think of the “Essentially Ellington” program and how it aims to teach that style to students.

On the other hand, when soloing as a feature or improvising, there is an expectation that a quality performer is able to get “out” of the rigid structure and be more expressive.

Each has its place.  It’s not WHICH one to do, but WHEN.

Afro-centric Folkloric Music:  Whether its Cuban, Brazilian, Argentine, West-African or something else, all the music which has African roots employs a very high level of precision in rhythm, BUT also an awesomely lyrical sense of “swing” and unevenness in the subdivision.

It’s incredible to listen to an ensemble which is so uniformly “out” on a piece, and then hear them be just as uniformly “out” but in a different way on the next piece.  The studio bands in Brazil that record the Carnaval Samba Enredo records each year are one example.  Los Munequitos de Matanzas from Cuba are another.  Any great Malinke ensemble from Guinea/Mali does the same thing.

I hear great Jazz ensembles in the United States do this as well.  Listen to the very even triplet shuffle of any Basie recording and then jump to an Art Blakey album to hear how tight to next beat it can get, and how that changes the energy of the groove.

Precision in the ensemble, lyricism in the rhythm.  Very high level groove, very hard to achieve.

Marching Band: Again, can of worms.  Marching is a HIGHLY stylized activity: Marching is like walking… with a style, uniforms are like clothes… with a style, hand position with a style, posture with a style, etc etc etc.

There is a tendency for such a large, spread out ensemble to drift towards more precision than lyricism, especially when scores and competition dollars are involved. However, the players, writers and staff of many of these ensembles are all really good overall musicians, and expect more than pure precision from their groups.

Elements of lyricism in this environment are really valuable and stick out in strong contrast to the precision around them. Soloists “pop” and add an incredible impact when they are placed appropriately, whether they are visual or musical.  I know when I think of awesome moments in marching it’s almost always around those lyrical elements.

Rudimental Solos: Similar to marching band generally but deserving of special mention.  The solos of J.S. Pratt, for example, can be played flat, but the amount of dynamic motion written in makes them highly lyrical.  The accents in a given passage, as well, have a lyrical drive that is emphasized greatly by phrasing them as a melody, rather than a series of executions.

I select rudimental solos on their ability to combine the precision associated with the activity with a sense of lyricism, because it’s about BOTH elements and WHEN they are most effective.

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I could go on, but this is enough variety to make the point.  Precision is a great and noble goal, and a critical element in many areas of music, but balancing it with lyricism is the highest goal, giving each its place to achieve the best results.