Avant-Garde and Jazz?

Another day, another blogpost, another instance where I question my sanity.

If I hadn’t made myself clear by now, allow me to do so now: I am not a very big fan of Avant Garde music. It may just be my personal bias toward more mainstream classical music, but I just find that there is a lot of this music that I just can’t really get into, no matter how much I might think I understand it. I mean, occasionally, there will be something or another I will enjoy, like Morton Feldman’s The King of Denmark, but for the most part, the feeling eludes me. Especially compositions like this:

Or like this:

And particularly like this:

I’m sorry, but what am I supposed to make of this? It’s just too radical for my tastes, and believe me, I’m pretty radical.

So when I hear jazz, the quintessential American Music, dipping its fingers in the Avant-Garde pool, it concerns me. It feels about as contrived as, say, The Lawrence Welk Show doing this kind of stuff.

(*Disclaimer: I actually like The Lawrence Welk Show because of the music the band presents. Scary, I know.*)

Perhaps I should explain myself.

It was the latter half of the 1950s and by this point, the Jazz Era was dying, having been overtaken by Rock and Roll. The great talents of Tommy Dorsey, Glenn Miller, and Benny Goodman (he’d moved to Classical by now) were long gone, and the black talents of Count Basie and Duke Ellington were finally getting their chances too late. All that was left was the nostalgia of the past as performed by an increasingly dwindling number of veterans. All that was really thriving (Or, well, thriving compared to other genres) was the hardcore stuff like Bebop and Smooth Jazz. See, they were cheaper and smaller, 4-5 players as opposed to the 17 of a typical Big Band. And Lord have mercy if the Big Bands had unions. But I digress.

In turn, Black Players began to form groups that were based mostly in cooperation. The most famous of these is the Art Ensemble of Chicago. When they get together, the music is unlike anything heard before.

At concerts, the group fuses various forms of jazz (swing. bebop, big band, etc.) in one song and everyone doubles on various percussion instruments to create a truly original sound. Additionally, they not only explore the roots of jazz, but the roots of their very culture. Various references to African life and culture are liberally sprinkled throughout their compositions. All of the above and more come together to create pieces like this:

Since this group is so good, this begs the obvious question: what does this have to do with the point I’m trying to make? Because, while there is an air of chaos that comes with the Avant-Garde, at least it’s clearly controlled by the players. But there is, however, another piece that does not feel like that chaos is being controlled: The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady.

Released in 1963 by Charles Mingus, it is a single continuous composition played by a 11-man band that’s meant to be played with choreography. Today, it is considered not only one of Mingus’ masterpieces, but also one of the greatest jazz pieces of all time. Unfortunately, as with Electronic Music, I fail to see the appeal.  

Now, to be fair, I haven’t heard the whole thing, only Oh, This Freedom's Slave Cries. However, from what I have heard, I perceive a muddled mess that doesn’t know what it wants to be.  

And I know what you might by saying: “Oh, how could he say that about the greatest jazz recording ever?!?” or “Your taste in music is bad and you should feel bad” or even “Crucify Him!!” And, yes, I’ll admit there are certain aspects of the piece I do very much enjoy, and I can see how it has gotten so much praise. So allow me to explain what I’m talking about.

It starts off innocently enough, with a piano solo reminiscent of Gershwin that introduces the theme. Then around the 0:38 mark, things start getting...disoriented. With random squeaks, squawks, tweets, and other bird sounds coming from the instruments in a way that feels more like Schoenberg-ian 12-Tone rows than jazz, we get our first glimpse that this is not going to be your typical jazz piece. Eventually, at the 3:25 mark...I’m not even sure what’s going on anymore.

And here lies my biggest problem with Avant-Garde Jazz: the whole thing has an air of feeling too forced. In this piece’s case, there is too much swinging back and forth between the traditional and the outright bizarre. Avant-Garde pieces at least have an air of some control to them. Even with all the freedoms, all the flexibility, there is still somewhat of a semblance of sanity within each piece. Sometimes, even children can access them without being scared. For example:

And yes, this is a piece Phillip Glass composed for 

Sesame Street. How cool is that?

Here, though? It’s musical anarchy. It’s said that improvisation, just to give some insight, is the backbone of the great jazz performances. Though I don’t think everyone in the group improvising at the exact same time to completely different tunes provides a solid backbone. Now, it’s highly unlikely that they are improvising toward the end, but you still understand what I’m trying to say.

The next piece, John Zorn’s variation piece Forbidden Fruit for String Quartet, Turntable, and Voice manages to be even more bizarre. To analyze this piece would be like to analyze Charles Manson: a lesser man would go insane from trying to comprehend it all. It goes from emulating Liszt to emulating Ligeti in the blink of an eye. It goes from Mozart territory to comprehension to disorder just as quickly. And worse: it has the nerve to call itself Avant-Garde jazz.

Now, to be fair, this piece was based on Japanese cinema, specifically the films of actor Yujiro Ishihara, which, let’s be honest, is not afraid to delve into the nonsensical and the strange.

But I honestly can not see how this piece can be jazz, Avant-Garde or otherwise. At least, with The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady, you can tell it’s trying to be jazzy. Here, there’s absolutely no indicating that it wants to be jazz. And that proves the point I’m trying to make: Avant-Garde and Jazz, in my opinion, do not mix.

In order for some things to stay relevant, to keep up with the modern world, it needs to change. Sometimes, it can provide change while staying true to its roots.

Other times, it can feel so phoned in, you can’t help but wonder if they’re actually trying.

I'm looking at you, you unfunny excuse for a - *ahem*, back on topic now.

So, maybe I should revise my conclusion: It’s not that Jazz and Avant-Garde can not mix. Even the above pieces work for some people. But it needs to be done carefully and skillfully. And if you ask me, neither of the above pieces do a good job at doing that.