Doubt is an undervalued state. Indeed it is often seen as a weakness. Certainly continued vacillation is not a desirable condition for a musician. For an improvising musician it would be the kiss of death.
This may seem to be a strange introduction to a CD, but having decided to write these notes myself - my preferred writer although willing and wanting to write a (perhaps) more orthodox note to this CD, could not fit it into my tight release timetable - I resolved to write a short essay reviewing one of the particular and individual characteristics required (in my opinion) of a good improvising musician. Doubt.
Of the improvisatory techniques required in the making of the accompanying CD, nothing is pre-planned. Nothing is prescribed or proscribed. There are, of course, anticipations and collected characteristics. An improvising musician brings a history of preferences and predilections. These are the accretions of performance experiences and playing strategies which mark, and in some cases may have actually scarred, the player on route. This is part of what the musician offers in the process of making music. It may be possible, for a while, for a player to shield behind the acquired mannerisms and technical practices of a preferred example. But ultimately, a new voice will have to emerge, projecting its own thoughts, its own musical priorities and making its own place in this musical world. Every sound, move, nuance is a-to-be- welcomed burden for the improvising musician. There is no composer to blame for the outcome.
So, what is it that preoccupies the improvising musician? In brief, I would characterize the practice as follows: initially a concern with the sonic properties of the instrument, which goes beyond a formal introduction which may be given, for example, at the conservatory; an interest in its inherent properties, a curiosity about its potential; an attempt to have a creative relationship and to humanize this inanimate mass so that it becomes, as it were, an extension of the self. Having established, at least in an elementary form, such a symbiosis, then this self must be tested. There is not much future for the improviser in the practice room. Self is best tested against other selves. And it is in the hurly burly of performance that improvisation begins to develop and form the musical personalities of its practitioners. The instruments may be resistant to control, but ultimately these objects of sound production are much more knowable than ever will be another improvising musician.
Given that the movement from one sound, one figure, one field of feeling to another has to be negotiated, then the idea of doubt looms very large. In this context the musician is at the heart of the musical decision process. At the end of a performance an audience may reach a conclusion about the relative success of the piece. And, in this most vulnerable of positions the musicians may look to the audience for some kind of confirmation that the enterprise was worthwhile. A musician may even seek comfort in approval. Dependence upon such responses however can only complicate musical development. Obviously, a musician who offers his work to the world does so (one supposes) in the hope that the outcome will produce a processive experience - in the listeners as well as in the musicians involved. The idea surely, is that something will have moved, will have expanded, will have satisfied, will have provoked. But for the musician to try and anticipate the audience’s responses risks (in an amusingly ironic way) confounding any expectations. It is not possible for the musician to know what will be satisfying to the audience except in the most mechanistic and behavioural sense. The individuals in an audience will probably not know what they will find satisfying in a performance until it is experienced. And, even if a musician had sufficient (and miraculous) insight to know what the audience wanted, it is doubtful whether could be delivered.
Performances of improvised musics are essentially voyages of discovery within a social context, musicians with materials, musician with musician, musician(s) with audience. In this sense a ritual is enacted; a processive experience arising out of these musical exchanges. Of course, going through ‘the motions’ is no guarantee that anything meaningful will occur. This is perhaps why the population at large is more inclined (even if only intuitively) to engage with the social and emotional experiences derived from the tried and tested musical compositions. But even these have to be performed extremely well to succeed. However, the risk of failure is high with an improvisation. But perhaps the rewards are commensurate.
The search for meaning in music will confound us all. This is not to say, however, that there is no meaning in music. We should also beware of explaining our responses to music as individual and subjective. This suggests a solipsism which negates any common experience. Obviously, each human being is a unique configuration of genetic material and historical location. But we share as much, if not more, than how we are differentiated. And, as I have outlined above, in the experience of making improvised music we test our ‘selves’ through an interface with other ‘selves.’ In effect we can only know who we are through the prism of contrast. Our emotions, our intellect - life itself - are socially mediated.
Of course, there remains doubt. The foregoing formulation is ‘my’ construction. And although parts of it may be familiar it is of course my way of explaining (some might say) the mystery to myself. However, it is the result of thinking, testing - and hopefully contributing - to a body of knowledge that reflects a unique and a demanding creative activity. To my mind the continual process of questioning and reviewing our actions and responses is a necessary method in our continual ‘construction’ of the world. The corollary to this activity is that if we do not construct this world, someone else will do it for us. A creative response is an active rather than a passive condition. It risks failure. This is perhaps better than submission or acquiescence.
Eddie Prévost - March 2001.
Track listing
1. Contingent upon (11.16)
2. Maybe years (07.13)
3. Whatever worlds (21.50)
4. Mayhaps (14.08)
5. Perchance (11.28)
6. Within the realms of... (10.50)
Recorded on 28 August 2000 at Gateway Studios, Kingston, England. Front cover artwork by Carol Finer.

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