LETTERS FROM LYLE
My friendship and correspondence with a late genius
Having lived in Los Angeles my whole life, I’ve had the opportunity to rub shoulders with some pretty interesting people, especially musicians. Over the years of my development as an artist, I’ve been lucky enough to interact with, receive support from, and even work with some of my heroes. Many of these interactions have helped shape who I am, but few have arguably had more of an impact than the friendship I began in the Summer of 2014 with one of the greatest minds of the past 50 years- Lyle Mays. The following text details the correspondences and interactions I had with Lyle during the years of 2014 and 2015. I’ve edited out the fluff, although small talk wasn’t a huge part of my friendship with Lyle, as you’ll see. Even a clever joke could lead to some neuron building discussion. Lyle championed my music, but held me to the same exacting standards he required of himself when writing for his own work, or his work with Pat Metheny. During the time I shared with him, he was able to unlock aspects of my musicianship, as you’ll see in the development of the communication between us. I’ve yet to share these special stories with many people, but with Lyle’s recent passing, I feel the world could use more of his brilliance. In a time when superlatives like genius have been so overused as to water down their meaning, genius is a description truly apt when it comes to describing Lyle. He was a true renaissance man, and we discussed everything from musical composition, to the theories of psychoanalyst Carl Jung, to the conception behind some of his world renowned music with The Pat Metheny Group, to physics, to the dangers of fundamentalism, and even Lyle’s experience as a soccer coach. And so, I’ve decided to share the guidance and insight he gave me with whoever cares to read.
Enjoy,
Alex
It was the summer of 2014, I was 21 and had recently finished the junior year of my undergraduate Jazz degree at California Institute of the Arts, where I had been studying with one of my favorite guitarists and dear friend, Larry Koonse. Months prior, Larry and I were discussing Lyle during one of our lessons, and something interesting came up. Larry, who had been friends with Lyle at one point, expressed that Lyle lived in a particular area of the San Fernando Valley, an area right near where I had lived for most of my life, and where I had quite literally driven by countless times in my daily commute to high school, often listening to his music. Lyle’s music, both with the Pat Metheny Group and his own solo projects, had played such a huge role in my life, and I knew that I had to get in touch with Lyle somehow. His music had become the soundtrack to parts of my life and the area I lived in. Turns out he probably conceived of some of that music in that same area.
A couple months later, I was speaking with a friend of mine at a Memorial Day get together. This friend is pretty well connected in the jazz world, and I asked him whether he happened to have Lyle’s email address. Weeks later, this same friend sent me an email with a possible point of contact for Lyle. It was explained that the email address in question could possibly be an old, out of date one, and that Lyle might not be using it anymore. Nonetheless, my friend wished me luck. Within days, I drafted up an email and sent it to the address. I wasn’t expecting to even receive a response, let alone the incredible exchange that was about to ensue. Here it is-
June 23, 2014
ALEX:
Hi Lyle,
My name is Alex Sill and I'm a guitarist/composer currently attending the Cal Arts Jazz Program. I'm a huge fan of your work not only with the Metheny Group, but your solo work as well. Your name comes up frequently in my guitar lessons with Larry Koonse, as I often bring in songs of yours that I've transcribed. Through the discussions Larry and I have had about yourself and the instinctive aspects of improvisation, he mentioned that you might live nearby in the West Valley. Being that you're my favorite pianist and one of my favorite composers, I felt that it was important to try and get in touch.
As an improvising guitar player in today's music scene, it's very important for me to express myself compositionally and seeking guidance from people I respect has played a big part in the process of my self discovery in this regard. If at all possible it would be really great if you have any time to give a master lesson (Maybe even discuss Carl Jung? :)
I'm including a few transcriptions I've made of your compositions including Street Dreams and Fictionary, as well as some video links of me performing the pieces. Also find some original material of mine included in the links below. I hope to connect with you soon.
All the best,
Alex Sill
—-
(Just hours later, I received the following response)
LYLE:
Well that was quite a flattering email! Thank you so much. Great job on the Street Dreams transcription. I get emails like this all the time so I have learned how to separate the serious and smart musicians from the rest. You, sir, have my full attention.
So here's the deal: I don't do any private teaching. I am currently working on some software https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykIk93u0dRA while also designing a house in the Colorado Mountains for a friend. But I am interested in serious and smart people. If it's OK with you, I may be able to fit a few emails in from time to time. I wouldn't charge you a thing (because I remember what it was like back when and people have been good to me so I try to be good to new people coming along).
From what I can tell, you have been doing all the right things. You play great (time, technique, and taste of course haha). So since you brought up the topic of musical instincts, let's look at that for a minute. What are a baby's jazz instincts? I don't know but I would guess that the answer is zero. So how do we develop musical instincts (if there even is such a thing)? My best guess is that our musical "instincts" are simply the brain's best response when under pressure. What do we draw upon in that pressured state? I would start with what we have listened to and what we have practiced, and studied.
I have listened to almost nothing other than classical music for decades. If you want to go deeper into your journey, then I may be able to help. If my flavor of translating may be able to help you, then I'm ready to help. So if you accept my conditions, what is your next question?
Lyle
—-
June 24, 2014
ALEX:
Wow, thank you so much for taking time out to respond in such a detailed manner. I'm truly grateful for your guidance and for the kind words. I've checked out "Chord Bible Belt" before and am very intrigued. It seems that your software allows for dense harmonic structures to be played in very involved rhythmic ways without a sort of cacophony of sound occurring. Super hip! I've read that there's a sort of database of chords set up prior to playing, and access to these structures only requires up to two notes being hit on the keyboard? I'd love to learn more about it and when it comes out.
In relation to my continued journey involving Classical music your feedback would be very welcome. I have delved a little into the classical world, and it's influence on me in terms of structuring my compositions, motivic development, as well as my improvised lines has been very helpful (Chorinho has been a favorite of mine to play in relation to your work). I've included some excerpts from a Five Part suite I composed for three guitars if you're interested (SoundCloud link attached). I am continuing to compose, and any advice regarding the classical world being apart of my continued growth would be greatly appreciated.
In terms of asking my first question -You've stated in an interview that your practice isn't structured like an athletic event per se, but that you try to keep "the flow from the mind to the hands in shape." What is one, or some ways that you go about doing this?
Thanks a million,
Alex
—-
June 25, 2014
LYLE:
What I meant by keeping "the flow from the mind to the hands in shape" is that I would never practice scales or arpeggios or exercises of any sort. I would practice composing and inventiveness by any means possible. Whether it was picking a motif to develop or exploring the harmonic implications and possibilities of Stella, I aspired to get my hands to respond to my ideas as fluidly as possible.
While this is possibly vague and unhelpful at first blush, it is consistent with my ideas about how we build musical instincts. I tried to train my brain to come up with composition and inventiveness when pressured, not patterns or scales. If that idea could be turned into an exercise of any sort, then it would defeat the purpose.
Now, from the little bit I know about playing the guitar, there may a huge difference between playing the piano and what you have to deal with on those frets, but you have expert help there with Larry Koonse. BTW, I meant to mention earlier how much I respect him. Please pass on my warmest regards.
Also, I think my browser is out of date or something, but sadly SoundCloud is unavailable to me. So I've only heard your non-SoundCloud stuff. Sorry.
As for the Classical repertoire, I am not the first to suggest starting with Bach. I would suggest taking your guitar-player hat off and listening with the ears of a composer. The translation can come later. First your brain must learn to hear what is really going on. How the hands deal with that later is complicated and different for each of us.
Thanks for bringing up Chorinho because I think that Bach was first and foremost a harmonicist. Yes he was unparalleled in his contrapuntal abilities, but at least equally as worthy was his ability to create incredibly strong harmonic progressions (played or implied) while weaving in all the other magic shit and also getting a groove going. Wow, that covers so many bases for me.
My Chorinho is but a humble attempt to merge the motor of Bach's harmonic thinking with a Brazilian dance rhythm, but the harmonic motion, with all its inversions, is strongly rooted in Bach. You probably knew that already. Sorry, I just had to point that out to be complete.
Lyle
—-
JUNE 26, 2014
ALEX:
Thanks so much for these amazingly thoughtful responses. I definitely have quite a bit to think about and study! Bach will definitely be more a point of focus for myself and I will take all of your advice into account in terms of listening with a composer's ears. Your Chorinho is so brilliant, and I often perform it with my group. It provides a great launchpad for study in terms of Bach like harmonic motion, as well as the impetus to attempt to come up with in the moment compositional ideas that satisfy the same sort of brilliance the melody demonstrates. The levels of harmonic as well as implied harmonic satisfaction have been set very high in that composition, and my aspiration towards that way of thinking/playing is quite a neuron pathway building undertaking, haha.
I'll share your best regards with Larry and let him know we've been corresponding. He respects you a hell of a lot as well, and I'm sure will be delighted to know what you've said. Sorry that the SoundCloud link wasn't working. I'm including a zip file link you can download, which includes a few parts from a suite I composed for three guitars last year (I'm playing the Electric guitar on the recording). There's also a couple of rough demos included in the Zip file, as well as a Youtube link below. Let me know what you think when you get a chance.
Thanks so much,
Alex
—-
*One of the recordings I sent Lyle was of piece of mine in 6/8 meter called “Skullduggery.” Additionally, I sent him a demo for my piece “Jackie,” written as a sort of musical portrait of Jackie Kennedy, and “Montana Suite,” which I had written for three guitars. His following responses showed me not only how much he expected of me in terms of standard, but how much was invested in what I was doing. Specifically, his response to “Montana Suite” (shown in a later email) floored me, and he confided something he had felt after releasing his first solo album.
Lyle’s basic reponse to “Skullduggery,” was that I could do better and that he expected more from me. Here’s what else he had to say-
July 3, 2014
LYLE:
You are so bright and talented and triple meter yields so much more. Have you heard this?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKHxf0M79_o&feature=kp
or this?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5favl2Qtx0
Don't be content with music that lacks orchestrational variety and dramatic intensity -- no matter how small the group. You are better than this -- I feel it in my bones….If you can forgive my gruff manner, I may be able to help you in your journey.
I wrote a lot of charts like Skullduggery in my youth. I once wrote a chart called "Chorale and Rock in C Major" in high school without any sense of the irony involved. I feel it was necessary and part of my growing up. What is your next step? That is a very interesting question to me.
Lyle
—-
July 5th, 2014
ALEX:
Hi Lyle,
My apologies for my delayed response, I was in San Diego with family. I truly appreciate your candor regarding Skullduggery and your continued interest in our dialogue, I'm honored. Skullduggery is a relatively new tune and a work in progress. I'm completely open to experimenting with arrangement/orchestral possibilities (e.g. dynamic range, overall drama involved, contrast, motivic development). In a situation like this one, do you think that it would be valuable to delve back into the song and tweak it for the sake of expanding my compositional brain muscles, or just keep what I've learned in mind and focus my energy on some other composition(s) that I'm currently developing?
I've been composing quite a bit lately and it seems that I'm at a point in which a relative level of consistency in regards to how "successful" my compositional efforts turn out to be is hard to discern and or maintain. I suppose it's all about putting your best foot forward without feeling that one has to force things, all the while reflecting on what could be missing in the composition at hand. In your opinion as it relates to your writing processes, do you still feel that you write "stepping stone,"compositions in order to feed the process that makes way for the final product that you ultimately release?
-Alex
—-
July 6th, 2014
LYLE:
Hi Alex,
You have no need to apologize to me for anything. There are no rules here. I simply think that you have a ton of talent, have already put out a ton of energy, and have certainly captured my attention.
Case in point: you immediately followed up on a very interesting issue -- whether to re-work or not re-work a previous effort. This tells me that you are interested and capable of thinking on a meta-level about what you are doing. Fantastic!
So let's look at that issue for a minute. When to revisit a piece? Well, if the piece exists conceptually in your brain as a "work in progress" then by all means revisit it. However, if you've already learned it and performed it, then there is a good chance that your brain has already started thinking of the thing as finished rather than unfinished. It is hard (or impossible) for the brain to shift back down into another mode no matter how much you want to. The piece will just sound "wrong" to your brain when you attempt to change anything. It's tricky
So, in my experience, pieces must be approached on a case-by-case basis. I have written "stepping stone" pieces (great metaphor btw) even though I didn't realize it at the time. I slowly learned when to finish a piece and when to let the idea percolate.
In the case of my Chorinho, I had the beginnings of that years before I finished it. I think I somehow knew that I lacked the skill and expertise to do justice to my original idea. So it sat in my inbox for years until I had musically matured a bit more. I didn't want to run the risk of my brain starting to learn an inferior version of what I thought could be a very cool thing.
As for Skullduggery, you'll have to answer these questions for yourself. I'm not withholding advice, I just don't know -- it's personal to you.
I really enjoyed the Jackie demo. It reminded me (sadly) of all the pieces that Pat and I would bring into our writing sessions; pieces that were good but would eventually get cut. We were brutal with each other. So this brings me to the question of how high do you want to set your bar? On one level, Jackie is really sophisticated, interesting and completely professional. On another level, is that the best you can do? I don't know. I just wanted to introduce that topic.
Now the Montana Suite stuff is even more interesting to me in that I think it may hold more insights into your musical personality. I may be projecting like crazy here, but you seem more "yourself" in that setting. That's a helluva thing for me to say since I don't know you at all, but it speaks to me differently -- more authentically. It's, by far, my favorite of all your stuff so far. Great writing, great playing, but maybe most importantly great personal voice and vision.
OK, that's enough from me for now. I'll await your reply. If there is any justice in this world, you will have a very bright future.
Lyle
—-
July 8th, 2014
ALEX:
Hi Lyle,
Thanks so much for the kind words and your continued interest. It really means a lot to me. In regards to re-working a piece of music, I know exactly what you're talking about when it comes to the brain disagreeing with an attempted revision. The initial train of thought is really tough to recapture, and subsequent compositional attempts might feel forced. In regards to "Skullduggery", I agree. I believe I'll soon find out if editing feels right or not.
I'm really getting what you're saying in relation to your process of composing "Chorinho." I feel that it relates to that sort of "musical investment bank," you and Pat have discussed before.
“Jackie" was composed with relative ease, and that may have been because I had a certain objective before any sort of musical idea came out. I've always been fascinated with the Kennedys (Jackie Kennedy in particular), and wondered what the result would be If I were to compose a sort of "character piece," if you will, or portrayal of a certain person in music. After I decided to dedicate the piece to Jackie Kennedy, musical objectives in terms of dramatic effect or impact seemed easier to reach… I suppose I was trying to depict the beauty and sadness/tragedy of her situation in musical terms. In my personal experience, music has always seemed to have a lot of image based implications residing in my imagination that seem to make the overall listening experience all the more powerful. These are the kinds of the things that have been running through my brain for sometime now and I'm curious if any of this is at all similar to your perception of composing/listening to music.
I’m so glad that you dug the “Montana Suite,” and that you felt some sort of musical identity coming through. It's very special to me to be able to hear that coming from you.
I’m just thinking out loud here and thank you for allowing me to indulge a bit: I feel it’s very important to continue to compose with the sort of aesthetic the "Montana Suite" portrayed and to continue to work with different orchestration/instrumentation possibilities for new endeavors. I’m beginning to sense that my compositional efforts in this area might unlock a key aspect in terms of how my musical style continues to develop. Based on your input regarding the piece, it confirms that something more original is coming through. Being a composer, it can be difficult to see this “forest through the trees."
All the best,
Alex
—-
LYLE:
Hey Alex,
Your "Jackie" perfectly captures grace, what it doesn't portray in any way is tragedy. The good news is that in music, we can add an intro and an outro and completely change the context. Thank you for telling me what you were thinking about. In my opinion you need to write some (possibly) hard to listen to tragic sounding music to enclose your very elegant already extant thoughts.
Glad that you understand my thoughts on the difficulty of to revise or not to revise question.
As for my excitement over the Montana Suite stuff, I'm not being arbitrary here. Here you often deal with vey sophisticated harmonies and time changes without anything seeming forced. Here you are introducing ever harder musical devices while sounding ever more natural. I sit up and pay attention to stuff like this. You have a gift which cannot be taught. Do you truly understand how hard it is to weave one's way through hard material and come the other end sounding better? Almost nobody can do this!
So now the question might be why should you trust me? The musical bank account metaphor was created by me. Hats off to Pat if he uses it in his clinics or interviews -- hey, my message is getting out there. I don't care who carries it. I feel it is truth and that it has resonance so I don't care how it gets propagated.You have clearly put quite a lot into your bank account and now seems like a fertile time for withdrawal.
When I chose to introduce myself to the world as a solo artist in 1985, I chose Highland Aire as the first piece on that album, as I felt that it perfectly embodied the sonata allegro form in a jazz context and trusted that it might be reviewed in that light. My hopes were dashed, Now people talk of that album as a classic, but at the time it was panned. Be prepared for that too.
I cannot help you on the easiest way forward, but something tells me that are more interested in the right way forward. Am I getting close to understanding you?
Lyle
—-
July 10th, 2014
ALEX:
Hi Lyle,
Yes, I agree with you regarding the need to follow "Jackie" from a more tragic perspective. It's in the works. I'm inspired to now form a piece that is designed to accompany Jackie as a sort of transition from the more graceful sounding vibe to a much darker mood. The end of Jackie may act as a sort of pivot point.
Thanks again for your Montana Suite comments. It's amazing to hear that it's that impactful of a piece. I don't believe that I'm capable of seeing the full scope of the difficulty you've described when it comes to writing in this manner. For the most part, It felt very natural when I was composing it.
In relation to your musical bank account metaphor (which I believe is very truthful), I feel that once the effort is put in and a certain piece of music is completed, it can be "beyond" the person, and bigger than themselves.
With Highland Aire (beautiful piece btw), it seems that it touches upon an unfortunate phenomenon that re-occurs in which there is some sort of prolonged buffer of time before most people really start to appreciate or really get a certain work (I remember Pat saying that this was the case with Bright Size Life). Did you feel that this phenomenon also occurred with Street Dreams or Fictionary? Those two albums are my personal favorites of yours.
I suppose there's nothing we can do about this time buffer, except for good word of mouth about the music, along with successful self promotion (which is pretty darn difficult nowadays), but as you gathered, I am concerned with the right way forward rather than the easy way. It's amazing how you understand me so well, yet we've only corresponded through email. You probably understand me better than I understand myself, haha. Hopefully, somewhere down the road we'll work together in some capacity :)
Thanks so much,
Alex
—-
July 19th, 2014
LYLE:
Good. I think your Jackie would benefit from being surrounded by some more tragic material, no matter how sad that sounds.
Can a piece be bigger then the person who composed it? Of course. But those matters ought to be of no concern to you. History will determine that.
So how does a piece of music withstand the test of time? This is not an easy question,
(*Lyle’s email got cut off here for some reason, so I responded with the following).
—-
July 20th, 2014
ALEX:
Hi Lyle,
How are you? It looks like your last email might have been cut off after the question "So how does a piece of music withstand the test of time?" Cliffhanger!
Best,
Alex
—-
LYLE:
Sorry for the inadvertent cliffhanger. I don't generally like cliffhangers. I prefer to resolve things, hopefully with some good counterpoint and some clever harmonic motion back to the tonic.
Which brings me back to what I meant to say in that latest embarrassing example of my many faults. I can be sloppy and careless at times. I'm working on it -- have been for decades actually.
But back to the cliffhanger question. Of course I don't have THE answer, but it's a question that I've been thinking about since college. I tried to find some meta-analysis of pieces that have indisputably withstood that time test (like, for instance, the Brahms symphonies) and have tried to distill some guidance from that exploration. My first conclusion is that style just doesn't matter. As a matter of fact, I think style is the shallowest possible way to talk or think about music.
Now this is a tricky subject for a young musician because a wide knowledge of styles is VERY practical from an economic standpoint. Kids need gigs, and to get those gigs, kids need to demonstrate competency in a vast array of styles in order to maximize their "hire-ablity." But I believe, to transcend the merely economic, and attain the artistic, one has to recognize style for what it is; namely the simplest (and therefore most common) way music is discussed among people who are clueless about the structure of music.
*What Lyle is saying here reminds me of one of Nietzsche’s aphorisms from Human, All Too Human- “Higher Culture Is Necessarily Misunderstood- He who has strung his instrument with only two strings, like the scholars (who, besides the instinct of knowledge possess only an acquired religious instinct), does not understand people who can play upon more strings. It lies in the nature of the higher, many stringed culture that it should always be falsely interpreted by the lower…”
So how to think about the structure of music? It goes WAY beyond some arcane and academic analysis of form. In my view, the study of the structure of music must include a very wide net including, (but not limited to), form, melody, counterpoint, harmony, rhythm, orchestration, register, dramatic narrative, surprise, and a whole host of terms too numerous to mention.
So my internal list is vast, My second "great" conclusion is that, no matter how vast the list, it will never be a prescription for art. Art doesn't work like cooking from a recipe.
So the best I can offer for now is that, while a detailed knowledge of what has worked in the past will certainly help you in many ways, it will not guarantee your music's survival.
The best I can offer at this point is to speculate this: If your music does NOT include good melody, good counterpoint, good harmony, good rhythm, good orchestration, and all the rest, it will most assuredly NOT withstand the test of time.
So how to proceed from such an abundance of negatives? I use it as a kind of test. I will still improvise on a theme, but if my improvs don't satisfy the simple tests, I might abandon the idea.
Consider First Circle. It doesn't sound any different to me now than it did in 1985. It was certainly not based on style. There is nothing, that says 1985 in that piece. But it does have tons of examples of classical traditions (from orchestration to drama) that put it in another category. The intro was based on by ideas of M.C.Escher and ideas of figure and ground.
If you want to talk about this further, I welcome your questions.
Lyle
—-
July 23rd, 2014
ALEX:
Hi Lyle,
No worries about the cliffhanger. Perhaps someone should write a tune called Cliffhanger in which nothing, not even single note lines, are resolved (I don't think a piece like this would stand the test of time, unless it made some strange John Cage like statement haha).
It's interesting for me to hear that you think of yourself as careless at times, being that these emails are the exact opposite of careless and are in fact extremely detailed, thoughtful and insightful. Thanks a ton as always for these awesome journeys into your thought processes. You've given me a ton to chew on here in terms of thinking about the survival of music. I totally agree with you when you say that style is a shallow way to discuss music. People often ask me what "type" or "style" of music I play, and I always hesitate to answer. When I respond, the answer always varies. I could say that I play jazz, but enjoy all types of music, or that my music is rooted in a lot of ways in jazz, but has an emphasis on composition. However, all of these descriptions fall short and I really just feel like asking the person to listen and decide for themselves.
I suppose the only thing one can do in terms of writing everlasting music is to refer to past examples and keep a sort of checklist, like the one you described, in mind and leave it at that. But at the same time, I shouldn't be thinking about these matters past a certain point. The goal is just to try and write good stuff with integrity, and like you said, leave it up to history to decide.
First Circle is truly timeless, and such a powerfully uplifting piece. It sets an amazing example with great melody, dynamics, orchestration, counterpoint, interesting rhythm and above all the spirit that goes into writing/performing a masterpiece. I'm super interested as to how M.C. Escher was an inspiration. Did the rhythmic concepts have anything to do with the idea of "strange loops"? It's super interesting for me to hear about the conceptual implications behind music, whether the implications were meant to be expressed or are personal to the listener.
As a side note, I'm playing with my group on August 9th at 7pm in Ventura at a club called Squashed Grapes, if you're interested. You're probably busy and I don't know how far of trek Ventura is for you, but I thought I'd throw it out there. I think I remember hearing that you lived near Box Canyon, which would be super crazy being that I’m from West Hills. Anyways, thanks again for all your advice and support.
My best,
Alex
—-
LYLE:
Ah, a cliffhanger musical piece...
I'm afraid the great Danish comedian, Victor Borge, already has already done that, and it got a good laugh in his act. I can't remember the whole piece (I heard it decades ago) but it starts something like this.
(*Lyle attached a MIDI file here*)
As for the style question in music, I could go on and on. Consider this: I don't speak French. If I heard a speech by a French politician, I could comment on his pace of speaking, how much he gestured, how animated he got, how the audience responded, how emotional he seemed -- in short, everything but what he actually said (because I simply don't speak French). So I might be able to say something about his speaking style, but I would never be able to comment on the actual content.
Now how many music reviews have you read that do exactly the same thing? Those reviews speak of the pace of things, how animated things were, how the audience responded, how emotional parts were, again everything but the musical content. In truth, people speak of style in music because that's all they are capable of when confronted with a language they don't speak.
But it goes deeper than that. As I learned the language of music in detail, how to distinguish pitches, intervals, chords, rhythms and all the rest, there was a tendency to get lost in those details. They are vast and compelling. It takes a long time to get to the point where one speaks music fluently -- where the brain just skips the "analysis" part and just comes up with a suitable musical response to a musical question.
I truly believe that in order to get to musical maturity, one must be able to abstract principles and concepts completely independent of the details of the devices used. I mentioned M. C. Escher in relation to First Circle because I did just that in crafting the opening section.
Are you familiar with the concept of figure ground perception? http://psych.hanover.edu/Krantz/art/figure.html
Escher was so incredibly skilled at "playing" with this concept and delighting our brains in the process. It occurred to me, early in the crafting of First Circle, that there was a golden opportunity to play with this figure-ground idea by omitting the clave (the strong, accented parts of the 22/8 pattern) and present to the listener only the "ground" part of the pattern. Hence the opening claps are simply the offbeats and the listener has no choice but to consider this the figure at first. Only later, when the piano and bells come in, playing the real figure (the actual clave of the pattern), does the listener have to reconcile things.
This is but one small example of how I use principles, separated from details, to generate new ideas in new contexts and (hopefully) come up with something worth listening to.
I think you may be of my tribe because you did much the same thing when taking my cliffhanger email fail and imagining a musical piece that never resolved. That, to me, is mature musical thinking, even if Victor Borge got there first and used it only for laughs.
As for the rest of First Circle, there is no single intention behind the piece, no single meaning to be gleaned, no "one true" anything. I view it as a very well-crafted piece that has enough good things within so that listeners just make up their own narratives as they experience it. Our brains just do that. As composers, our job is kinda like setting the stage, providing a critical mass of good ideas, playing them well enough (so that our shortcomings don't get in the way) and then just letting the listeners have fun, letting their brains do what human brains do. We can talk more about this if you wish.
Thanks for the invite to your club gig in Ventura. I'm afraid I've simply stopped going out to clubs so please understand this has nothing to do with you. Still I think gigs like that are always an opportunity to learn something so I hope that is the case for you. Yes, we are close geographically, but I feel we may be even closer in spirit. I sense a pure and genuine curiosity in you that should serve you very, very well.
Lyle
—-
July 26th, 2014
ALEX:
Hi Lyle,
Dang...it looks like Victor Borge beat us to the chase, haha. Thanks for making that transcription to give me an idea of what he performed. It's amazing that you remember the piece enough to transcribe some of it after such a long time. The alberti bass style accompaniment definitely lends itself to a comical feel here, although I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe I'm recalling alberti bass use in old style comedy films.
I enjoyed reading and agree with your analysis of what most music reviews read like, and the French politician comparison works great to express that which happens way too often in the critic world. It seems that there's also a lot of self entitlement in music reviews. I could be overreaching, but it appears that many music critics, through virtue of the fact that they are critics who may have years of experience, will often criticize music unnecessarily, even if they don't really understand what's going on. I'm not saying that all critics are like this, but I sometimes sense borderline arrogance from reading some of the stuff that's out there.
In relation to musical fluency/language, I sometimes find the analytical side of my brain trying to assert itself in a place where I already feel fluent, and where the more instinctual or "unconscious" part of myself has long since taken over. This kind of process, which may be the mind's way of balancing itself, is too deep for me to comprehend. Carl Jung's input would have been awesome to hear when it came to this.
I have come across Figure Ground Perception many times, but have never really thought about what it was called. You may dig this, or might already be familiar with it, but its concept seems similar: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spinning_Dancer. Thanks for giving me that insight into the crafting of First Circle's intro, it makes perfect sense. Really cool stuff!
When you spoke about mature musical thinking being connected to the abstraction and contemplation of other devices, it reminded me of something I've been pondering for a little while in relation to improvisational thought and composition in general. I feel as though being musically wise has a lot to do with recognizing or garnering an awareness of the potential of certain ideas, even if it's a small germ of an idea. This is really hard for me to describe, and I feel like I'm still at the beginnings of my musical journey, so I may have no place in saying such things, but I thought I'd give it a shot :)
I totally agree with you when you say that it's an artist's job to "set the stage," for the listener. The listening/imaginary experience is a personal journey, and although the artist may or may not have certain implications in mind, they are never imperative means of apprehension. Personally, certain songs may have very specific things associated with them, while others may just associate themselves with more general feelings or vibes (I've always associated Part 2 of Street Dreams with some sort of dreamlike, tribal vibe). I'm so interested in the way that music plays a role in our view of the world. I believe that our experiences are a synthesis of what actually takes place as well as what our imagination contributes to the situation, and that music acts as a catalyst for these experiences to become extraordinary. I could go on forever about this.
I completely understand you not wanting to come out to the Ventura gig. And yes, through all of these enlightening conversations, I as well feel that we are in some way, connected in spirit.
Thanks much,
Alex
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July 30th, 2014
LYLE:
Hey Alex,
Remember that one critic wrote of a new Brahms symphony back in the day, "Brahms has mastered the art of composing without ideas." Snap! We no longer speak of that critic. We still study Brahms. Hindsight is so easy. Critics are so useless.
But Jung remains relevant. I would suggest that individuation, for you, might mean reconciling those seemingly conflicting impulses of feeling fluent yet wanting to exert control. Of course your brain is balancing itself because you know you can do both. What we have here is a classic case of false dichotomy. Something in your background has told you that you can't do both, but my life and my output proves otherwise. My instincts tell me that you have both talent for fluency and talent for control. So why not simply use those talents? Where's the block there? I think you can use both those aspects of your brain to the fullest and that it will feel great to you. Consider Street Dreams 2. I gained a bit of fluency with West African rhythms and practices. I applied that to a modern recording studio while bringing in everything I knew about European orchestration. The result was somewhat surprising, but the nature of the journey should not be to you. I aspired to be free and in control at the same time. That may serve as a description of adulthood, but I think it also serves as wider metaphor to describe composing.
Now you you bring up the idea of spotting potential in new ideas. I would say that if you are already at that point, then you should simply write. Trust your instincts, produce, refine and continue.Sometimes I feel that my message to you is simply, "Be Yourself." Don't bother worrying about anything. In most cases that message would not be very deep. In this case it is.
Lyle
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August 4th, 2014
Hey Lyle,
Brahms, composing without ideas, ha! Sounds like that critic had no idea what they were talking about.
Jung is so inspiring. I'm always amazed every time I pick up one of his books and read even the smallest passage. His work connects with me in so many ways. Thanks for your sage advice on my individuation process, it's certainly relevant. The fluency and control situation isn't something that's been a huge problem lately, just something I've noticed. I've definitely felt the more fluent part of myself coming into its own the past couple years.There's a great youtube video in which Keith Jarrett says something about bringing all the analytical knowledge that comes with music to the table and the importance of having the ability to let it all go.
Your description of adulthood and how it relates to music is so cool (Being free and in control at the same time)…
Your advice on "being yourself," definitely means a lot. Normally it is cliche', but coming from yourself based off of what we're discussing, makes it mean something more. Context is everything in this case.
Thanks much,
Alex
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For the next several months, I didn’t correspond with Lyle, until the New Year came around. I decided to check in with him and send him some demos for two songs that would eventually make it onto my debut album years later, “21st Century Alchemy” and “Chumash Lullaby.”
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January 11th, 2015
ALEX:
Hi Lyle,
Alex Sill here. I hope all is well with you, the software design, and the architecture plans. Just wanted to send you a quick note to say Happy New Year, and wish you all the best for 2015. I'm attaching some rough demos of original tunes that I've been playing live lately (the live recordings didn't have good enough sound quality), if you feel like checking them out.
I'm headed into my last semester at Cal Arts. I do have a couple questions regarding my recent works if you have any time. Hope to talk soon :)
My best,
Alex Sill
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January 14th, 2015
LYLE:
Hey Alex,
Thanks for the good wishes. Yes, all is well with me and I trust all is well with you as well. That sounded like an inadvertent Steve Swallow song title somehow. Oh well...
I wished I could have responded earlier. The holidays seem to clog my inbox but I remain very interested in how you are doing. I believe you have a unique, creative voice. Loved the last two things you sent me and would love to talk about anything connected to anything. What's on your mind and when can we talk? This week is good for me. Name a day and time. I can probably make it work.
—-
Lyle and I ended up speaking over the phone for a couple hours a few days after these emails. I managed to take some notes, and have distilled some of the ideas down here:
*The importance of having other interests outside of music and how it helps one become more integrated of a personality. If one has an interest, pursue it, or as Lyle said, “If you have an itch, scratch it.”
*On fundamentalism and its appearance in the Jazz world: Any sort of fundamentalism is evil, it shuts down thinking
*Recommendation of The Six Thinking Hats book as a helpful suggestion to help organize thought, even compositional/musical tasks
*The importance of etiquette and respect amongst fellow musicians as opposed to “vibing” people
*Joseph Campbell’s book The Hero With a Thousand Faces
*Lyle essentially ended up teaching his high school geometry class
*Lyle’s recommendation of the book Love’s Executioner
*The importance of working with inspiring sounding samples in the studio. Vienna Symphonic Library was a recommendation
—-
A few weeks later, I emailed Lyle to tell him about my upcoming graduation concert at Cal Arts, and that I’d be playing his “Chorinho” with Larry Koonse.
February 15th, 2015
ALEX:
Hey Lyle,
It was awesome speaking with you over the phone a few weeks ago. I was inspired to pick up a copy of "The Six Thinking Hats" and just started reading it. Really looking forward to getting into it. I was also able to check out some of the Vienna Orchestral Library while I was at the NAMM show. Very impressive sounding stuff with tons of possibilities. I messed around with orchestral sounds and a pretty nice sampled Bosendorfer.
Also, I’ve included my graduation recital info below if you have time to make it out to Cal Arts on the eve of Feb 28th. The show will feature mostly original compositions set to projected imagery, as well as a couple of covers; I'm being brave and will attempt to play your awesome Chorinho :) Anyways, it would totally awesome to see you there, and I'm sure Larry would love to see you as well.
Best,
Alex
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February 26th, 2015
LYLE:
Hey Alex,
Good luck tomorrow night. I'm sorry I won't be able to attend, but if there is a recording made I would love to check it out. Please give my best to Larry too.
Lyle
P.S. Give me a call after the dust settles. I have a bit of news I would like to share with you.
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A few days later, Lyle and I spoke over the phone again. It put a smile on his face knowing that Larry and I had performed “Chorinho.” The “bit of news” he was referring concerned a live recording of his acoustic quartet from Germany. Recorded back in 1993, Lyle didn’t even know it had existed up until 2015. It was a full, crystal clear board mix, and Lyle was stoked about it. His friend and engineer, Bob Rice ended up remastering the recording, which was eventually released through SWR in fall of 2015 as The Ludwigsburg Concert. Lyle and I ended up having another lengthy phone conversation, discussing physicist Richard Feynman, and Lyle’s 2011 TEDx performance based on Feynman’s mathematics. We also touched on the possibility of doing something with the Street Dreams transcription I had worked up. Although I know Lyle was interested in working up something in regards to Street Dreams, I’ll never know what we may have done with it. Additionally, we chatted about the decline of the music industry for many artists in the age of streaming, commenting on the sort utilitarian value music often represented. Rather than being seen as something of intrinsic value, something to be experienced in full, we discussed that it was more like buying a bar of soap for many people, or something of the like.
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Following my graduation from Cal Arts in May of 2015, I reached back out to Lyle via email. Instead of sending a reply, he called my phone and left a message:
“Hey Alex, it’s Lyle Mays calling. I’m just thinking about my day. I’m going out to Simi Valley tonight to watch a friend of mine compete in a pool tournament, and thought I’d just give call you a call on the off chance that you might be free. I’d love to see you, love to catch up. Anyway, just give me a call, ok? Bye bye.”
I called Lyle back shortly after, and we ended up speaking for several hours. I remember driving by his house and commenting on how crazy it was that we had lived so close to each other for years, to which he replied something to the effect of “Some occurrences in life are better than what could be written into a book.” Our discussion continued, and Lyle at one point even described how, while living back in Wisconsin years ago, had instructed a kids soccer team, and even devised some sort of at home broadcasting system that the kids could use to watch clips of soccer games. Did Lyle invent a sort of proto Youtube for sports? Haha.
Later that night, I ended up meeting up with Lyle at a billiards hall in Simi Valley, ironically right down the street from where I attended Santa Susana High School and started playing his music just years earlier. Although I was terrible at pool, he taught me a few quick tips, and was also very skilled at the game. His knowledge of physics, no doubt, came into play. For the next few hours we just shot the shit, and hung out with a few of his pool playing friends. I hugged him before leaving, not knowing that it would be the first and last time I’d see him in person.
I feel grateful to have felt included and taken under the wing by such a rare and inspirational figure. Although Lyle is gone physically, his musical and intellectual spirit will be felt for eons to come. His music and ideas will most certainly stand the test of time.
