In 1988, I was a young pianist quickly burning out on classical music. After studying for nearly a decade with half a dozen teachers, every note I played was a drudgery, a chore, and I began to hate piano. I spent a year working with Peter Yazbeck, a renowned artist whose sole focus was coaching young pianists to win international competitions, and they did win them, frequently, and I won them too, frequently. And I hated it.
I was only 13, and ready to quit.
For my 13th birthday, my Aunt Nancy performed a miracle. She raised me from the dead. She sent me 2 tapes - Wynton Marsalis’ “Standard Time”, and Thelonious Monk’s “The Composer”.
Monk. I remember listening to the tape the first time. Image that you had been training for 10 years to be a black and white photographer, and suddenly, instantly, for the first time, you saw the world in gloriously bright technicolor.
My mind exploded. My ears opened up. He made impossible leaps of angular logic. He drew melodic lines like a drunk man might stagger through a crowded subway car - with fits and starts, and violent bursts of dissonance and cognizance. His harmonic structures were a blur of colors, and seemed to be fit together only by being in parallel motion to other, more densely blurred tones.
Monk was, to a young and frustrated competitive classical pianist, like heroin. I bought every recording I could find. I studied his voicings, his impossibly dense coloration of scale groupings. I imitated his solos, trying to find the mysterious logic that pinned those notes to those chords.
The thing about Monk, the thing that a young pianist just entering his world would have to wait another 10 years to learn, is that nothing can be lifted from him. You can’t borrow his solo phrases, because they only make sense strung together in larger lines. You can’t borrow his melodic lines, because they only make sense within the tonal palate of his chord structures, those bizarre and impenetrable fortresses of tension that suffer no analysis. You can’t borrow his chord structures, because they only work properly when they follow the internal logic of his own devising, moving alternately in parallel motions or angular leaps.
My mentor, Phil Shackleton, moves effortlessly through musical constructs, giving cogent analysis of the functions and structures without ever diminishing the musicality of the overall effect. He loves music, passionately, and his analysis is an act of devotion.
He and I sat, once, when I was a student of his, at a piano in his office, and spent an hour analyzing 4 notes of a Monk piece. They come from a piece called “Rhythm-a-Ning”, and all four of them are wrong. They are wrong in every possible way. The harmonic structure is an F7 chord in the key of Bb, which is normally a very welcoming sort of chord - it allows all manner of vagrants and dissonant factions to sit at the table. In fact, the only two notes that aren’t welcome in a Dominant 7th chord are the Major 7th, and the 4th. So what does Monk do? Right toward the end of a phrase, he drops 4 big fat quarter notes that move from E - F# - G# - Bb (the major 7th, the flat 9th, the sharp 9th, and the fourth). It breaks every rule. If it appeared on a student project, they would fail.
And yet, it’s perfect. It’s right. When you hear him play it, he fits it together in the line, in the chordal structures, in the section, in a way that makes it inextricable.
I’m currently working my way back through his catalog, trying to fit my mind around what he did. I’m arranging that same piece, “Rhythm-a-Ning”, for two pianos, and I’ll be performing it with another teacher here at the University for an upcoming recital. The other prof is arranging a Bill Evans piece for us to do. I think he got the easier gig. I still, after 15 years with Monk, cannot find a handle for his work. I have no way to grasp a hold and move it around.
Nothing can be lifted from Monk. He’s not Parker, or Dizzy, or Miles, or Bill Evans. We don’t cop his lines or his voicings or his harmonic sense and speak his vocabulary with our voice, as a way of augmenting our own expression. He remains whole. He obviates our conventions for isolating the constituting pieces of his creative work.
He is whole. He is as he always was. So what do we do with Monk? On every list of influences I’ve ever drawn up, Monk is at the head of the list. The same thing is true of almost anyone who plays jazz piano; we all count him as an influence. But not in the way that we count Bill Evans or Duke Ellington. We don’t lift things from him. We don’t borrow from his vocabulary.
Monk means, to us, that art will always stand ahead of analysis. That creativity needs no rails to move forward. That to truly do something new sometimes requires us to be ignorant of what’s been done before, requires us to reform the raw materials with eyes squinted.
Most of all, Monk reminds us that any worthwhile act of creativity is always an act of rebellion. It is the violent overthrown of the banal, the shattering of safe harbors, and the full-throated cry of insatiable lust for human expression.
Click here to see the iTunes essential Monk Playlist.
I wonder who the “Monk” of today might be. The artist who is misunderstood, unrecognized for his or her influence and brillance, who will later change people’s approach and understanding of a music genre.
I’m glad you didn’t fizzle out babe. Go Aunt Nancy. Did you ever tell her that she changed your life? Might be a nice thing to know…
Oh great, now I have to drop what I’ m doing and hit the music store.
I remeber the time I frist heard a young Michael W. Smith…
I know exactly what you’re talking about Mike, exactly. I mean… the raspy voice, the geometric sweaters… the DX7 screaming in its full glory… wow. I was home. I wanted to be a CCM singer.
Lately I’ve been working my way through his catalog as well, and I encourage you all to go beyond the “Friends,” and the “Go West Young Man”s of his life’s work. Breathe in deeply the subtle nuances of “All You’re Missing Is A Heartache,” featuring guest vocals by Matthew Sweet of Stryper.
It still anoints me.
Blasphemy! Chad. It’s Michael, not Matthew. Sheesh.
Kind words about me.
True words about Monk, in terms of what people have actually gotten from him. Regardless of what might be possible, attempts to play/compose like him have mostly flopped…. the usual comment is that it’s just too formless or too “outside”. But Monk’s music just works.
And now that I think about it, that’s something of a challenge. I’m going to have to spend some quality time with his music at some point… I haven’t heard nearly all his music, or seen nearly all the transcriptions that may exist… I’m just curious.
Sounds like doctoral dissertation material for somebody…. or maybe it’s already been done, and we just don’t know about it. I’ll be happy to review it, if somebody else wants to write it… hint, hint.
I can’t wait to hear your arrangement, Mike.
Dang Chad, you’re hitting a little close to home there… go ahead and laugh, but I had a pretty serious ear opening with “The Big Picture” when I was young and impressionable. I still find things coming out of my head that are easily traced back to the original “Dub-ya”. (Mike, you must be thrilled that we’re hijacking your great thread about Monk, to talk about MWS… heh heh.)
Mike, great post. Though I know I can’t keep up, I sure appreciate your musical intellect and especially the way it inspires you to more and better and deeper and cooler. Gimme some o’ dat.
“He obviates our conventions for isolating the constituting pieces of his creative work.”
So like, Brian (Stick) does this to me, like, all the time.
June,
10 points for hilarity…
I’ll let you all know when the recital happens. I’m actually really excited about the arrangement. It’s quite the break from doing pop string and loop programing. It’s one of those things that you’d never actually do unless you were doing it for something really specific like this, but it’s always really satisfying once you’ve done it.
Also, I’m a bit terrified. I no longer get the the share of common grace that comes from being a student, and my work now needs to be good on it’s own merits. Arranging and playing in front of all of my former teachers is a bit of a heart thumper.
So cool…wish we could come. When we get our dream grand for the “piano room” (right now it houses a beanbag and acts as a Hot Wheels race track) we’d love to host a private recital!
As a student, I loved hearing and seeing my profs perform. My flute professor once began a recital with a modern piece which she began playing before she was on stage and then, while still playing, walked backwards onto the stage and sort of wandered about as she played the remainder of the piece. I’m sure there was much musicality to the wandering, but to dumb young me, it just seemed weird and cool…and made me want to keep practicing my flute.
I’m sure you’ll rock the house Mike.
Wow, Michael, you’ve written this beautifully, as always. Man, I’m so glad you brought another side of Monk to light for me - my jazz prof ‘appreciated’ him as an artist but hated to listen to or teach his stuff. In jazz history she basically said, OK, analyze a page of this (so try figure out what the hell changes are going by and what modes he SHOULD be using versus what he IS using), get it over with, and we’ll move on to transcribing Ella’s long-ass How High the Moon solo. Don’t think I’m messing with Ella, friends. No way.
I wish I could see your recital…it would be so mind-bending to hear someone play Monk who loves his work so much.
Cerise
Gretchen - We have a winner.
Perhaps Monk was an early forerunner of the punk rock spirit.
Let’s just keep a little perspective as to who the real rebel is in this little discussion. Johnny Rotten? T-Monk? I think not.
Monk rocks! My favorite of his is I should care. You really capture what he was all about in this article too. It can’t be explained in any way how what he did worked (except drugs and schizophrenia), but it certainly did.
BTW, a flat9 in F is Gb not F#.
I’d jump on the MWS bandwagon here but as it turns out I looked around and have been on board since my parents bought me “The Big Picture”. Actually when my dad saw his photo inside he said he should have got me the other one (se above link) because it was more clean cut.
And Chad is awarded 100 bonus points for a Stryper reference in a post about Thelonious Monk. The extra 50 for including the word “subtle” goes to Ash instead for the gentle name correction. Hey, can anyone see if Tim Gaines is still working at Gard’s on Grand Ave.?
Paul,
I Should Care is a great tune. I think my favorite is a toss between Rhythm-a-Ning and Ruby my Dear. The chords in Ruby are just too lush for words. I think it was maybe the best example of what he was trying to achieve with parallel brush strokes.
And, since you went all music geek on me, I’ll bust you right back. Most transcriptions write the succesive ascending notes with sharps up to the Bb (some do A# as well, even though it’s in the key signature), to emphasize that it’s the scalar motion that links together the unlikely pitches. so yes, flat 9 on F7 is Gb, but the melodic line there is pretty much always written with an F#. Also, geeking out on music theory ranks right up there as one of the coolest things that’s every happened on this blog.
And for the rest of you, shame on you for letting Chad drag you down to his level! I’m trying to get some culture on up in here!
Michael,
I am putting you on notice. The smarter your posts get, the more asinine my comments will be. I mean, you should be ashamed of yourself. I was a theory major and I’m having trouble tracking this! Nerd.
:)
It’s a lost cause, Michael. But I like your optimism.
Oh… don’t get me wrong. I love the culture around this joint. I just feel inferior, so I resort to what I do best, which is, of course, CCM humor.
Bobby… yeah Big Picture was pretty edgy… I’m sure Mom wouldn’t have approved. I was just bummed I didn’t get into a band early enough to be able to wear the kind of threads he was sportin’ inside the CD cover. That dark grey/brown long jacket is SWEET! I did own one of those cool Roland AX-10 synth controller keyboards that you strap on like a guitar. Too bad that band broke up before the first stadium tour (or live performace for that matter). I was so looking forward to jumping off an amp or something. “LAMU…. FAR AWAAAAAAAAAY!”
Another vote for the music theory geekiness. I dig it. When do we get to Stravinsky?
I dunno. When does the next Casting Crowns CD come out?
If you can’t beat ‘em…
Michael, for the record I was by your side all the way with Monk. If the mention of modes upset you (it sure did me) I can’t help that, dude. I told you your writing was beautiful - and I even read it! AND, I didn’t correct your theory, and the fact that I was barely hanging on by my fingernails to understand you had nothing to do with that. Goodness of my heart, man. Goodness of my heart. Now go find your totem animal.
By the way, we still - churchless and godless heathens that we are - pull out “Eye 2 (I)” (or whatever) on every road trip. And “The Big Picture” is still musically relevant today, IMO.
Cerise
Stick, let me make this very clear:
Friends Don’t Let Friends Play Keytar. I heard that a guy actually lost his salvation playing one back in the Midwest somewhere, so let’s be careful out there, okay?
Secondly, for the Stryper afficianados, I’m pretty sure they’re on tour again to support a new release. Michael, Matthew, and Oz are on board, but Tim is off doing something else. Maybe Jenny Craig commercials or something.
Chad, thanks for including something tangible for the bottom-feeders like myself. I feel like a post without d!ck & fart jokes is really no post at all.
Oh the beauty of this thread.
Go to iTunes Music Store and type in “ultimate friends makeover”. And you get Stryper covering MWS’s “Friends”. It’s a beautiful thing.
And yeah Corey, my key-axe weilding days are long gone… unless you think I could pull it off during worship at church… hmmm, food for thought.
Chad, you were a THEORY MAJOR! Holy nerdiness! You must’ve gotten twice the “oh, that’s nice, what kind of job can you get with that degree?” questions I got as a Piano Performance major.
Ok.
A) I apologize that the words “Casting,” and “Crowns,” were typed consecutively on this thread. I just didn’t know what I was doing. I renounce infant cannibalism. And CCM.
B) I was a theory major. I was a double with vocal performance, but my opera tone is just a little… well… you know… Smithy.
C) While the Stryper cover of Friends is something that is pretty sneerworthy, I will confess that Dave Crowder Band covering Secret Ambition might just seperate me from my $.99.
Unfortunately, my theory major came from a lack of desire to teach (education major) and a lack of desire to practice (performance major), as opposed to any real theoretical ability. Actually, all my ability is theoretical. But I can (and did) arrange excellent barbershop quartets from Weezer songs.
I, too, apologize for the thread hijacking. It’s really too bad I don’t have anything meaningful to add to the conversation on Monk (not the OCD detective on USA). I blame only myself and harmonicminer for taking a sabbatical the year I was scheduled for Theory II.
My exposure to classical (paricularly romantic-impressionist period) music in school was a somewhat similar awakening for me - I had been brought up on piano, french horn, pop organ, and finally rock guitar so the colors and textures that comprise the classics and realizing the impact just a few composers had on music was really eye-opening for me.
Speaking of CC - their booking agents go to my church, I’ll see if I can get you a pre-release, Mike.
Yes, I still have my keytar too. Brought it to the Stryper show in Nashville.
…slap! Sorry about that. Bad Bobby.
Michael has left this thread in agony.
Cerise
Michael,
Thanks for correcting the scalar vs. chordal theory. If you have ever heard Joe Satriani’s Enigmatic, then you will definitely get the modal view of it. I, however, gave up linear analysis and became a vertical thinker. Glad to relate, though.
Corey,
I take excpetion to your keytar. There is a great band out called Mute Math that redeems the keytar for Christ. You should check them out. And yes Stryper is on tour and they are exactly like you would remember.
OMG, MuteMath uses Keytar?!?! As if I needed ANOTHER REASON to love them.
Can I just reflect once more on the amazing blog that this is? We start out with a dizzying and quite educational (and moving - think how we’d feel if Michael had trashed his musical dream) missive on Thelonious Monk, one of the most influential and unfathomable musicians of the 20th century, and have dissolved into a conversation about Stryper, MuteMath, and I’ve been forced to go look up the word “keytar”.
I love it here. I really do.
Paul,
I understand the possibility that some can make a keytar look cool. But once a month someone gets struck by lightning, too. To say that it occurs, is not to say that it’s something other than an anomaly. I once saw a guy do a rock n’ roll gig in a dress, and nobody blinked an eye. As a matter of fact, the band went on to see some success and people really dug this singer. But I’ll bet you a crispy dollar that if I were to show up to a gig in a dress, things would go sour in a hurry.
Paul. Don’t fight it. Keytars are the evil, bastardized stepchild of two respectable instruments. Because someone chooses to consort with them doesn’t make them any less unclean.
Actually, in the movie “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” (and maybe in the stage show, too) Stephen Trask uses a keytar for 1/2 of a song. And the boy is HOT. But HE made the keytar look cool, not the other way ’round. Paul, if you MUST use one, cover it with pink glitter and wear black nail polish. There is no other way.
it’s what Monk would do if he had to play keytar.
…and we come back around to what this thread’s REALLY about.
Skilfully done, mon ami. And probably true to boot. You’re the man.
Morphea,
well said.
Ash: Hip, fashionable, and terse. I Like the cut of your jib, sailor.
You know he was gonna throw something big down, too. Ash, just hearing you say my name is enough…