Free Jazzing

             If you were to take a poll of the stage crew at Berklee and ask them "what music do you enjoy listening to the least at work?" There would be a surprising majority who'd say Jazz. It's surprising because of all the styles of music Jazz is the one that Berklee is best known for. There's an easy explanation for this though. Let's say for example that you worked at Willie Wonka's chocolate factory and part of your job was tasting the chocolate before it gets packaged. If someone were to ask you if you liked chocolate, after spending an entire day eating it, you would most likely answer "no." That's exactly what it's like for our work-study students.  We hear so much Jazz in this job we can barely stand to listen to it anymore.  So when I look at the program and see the first piece is entitled "Free Jazz" I groan.  Not only would tonight be Jazz but it would be unlistenable Jazz.  We spend the rest of the relatively simple set up time making jokes about how awful tonight is going to be when one girl meekly states that she is looking forward to the show tonight. At my incredulous response she says "I know, no one here likes Jazz." Which made me pause.  I didn't want that to be the case. In fact, I enjoy a lot the jazz concerts around campus.  I explained that there are many types of Jazz, so that wasn't necessarily true, but decided I would reserve judgment on "Freefall" (the concert title) until I'd heard it.
          The concert had an impressive line up. Most notably (for me at least) was Joe Lovano, George Garzone, and Josh Rosen.  The first group started the show off with a 50 minute free jazz piece, with two saxes and drum set.  I know, it sounds awful, but I was reserving judgment.  Instead of listening to it how I usually do (trying desperately to stay awake) I listened and thought about the crew girl who was excited to hear this show.  What about this music is appealing? There is no melody or harmony or even a rhythm to keep your interest, all of the reasons I enjoy music are missing, so what is there? As I watched and listened I was reminded of a scene from "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac.  In the scene the protagonists are in a jazz club, but it's not a jazz club like I know them. This was a crowded dive, a lively party where everyone is there to be lost in the music. It sounded wild or crazy with a level of energy I've never experienced in a jazz club. The scene resonated with me because even though the environment was unfamiliar, the music he described was.  I hear it everyday.  So now as I listen I imagine being in that space. The heat of bodies is almost overwhelming, cigarette smoke hangs thickly in the air,  and it's noisy, not just with the sound of two wailing saxophones, but there are clinking glasses and boisterous conversations intermingled with cries of encouragement to the band. Everyone here is seeking release and the music embodies that search.  The audiences experiences through the musicians a freedom that they don't get anywhere else in their lives. It makes you want to shout, to move, to let everything go and just be apart of it.  This is a place I would love to go.  I can see myself dancing on a table occasionally adding to the din, with laughter and shouts or music of my own.  Anything goes here, that's what defines this music... it's free.
         I open my eyes and I'm back in a dark, still room watching three men make noise on the stage. They are expressing this freedom, but there aren't sharing it.  The room doesn't allow them to share it, it's too big. At this point it has been 30 minutes of them playing.  My threshold for this stuff has reached it's limit and I am now pitifully watching the clock hoping they stay within the 45 minute time restraint which of course they don't.  Now that my listening exercise has fizzled out I struggle again to pay attention, to not fall asleep, to at least pretend that I am actively listening to what is happening on stage.  Let's not forget that I have a job to do.  But as the minutes tick by I turn into my five year old self trying to stay still in church. I fidget and look around, make origami shapes with the program, count ceiling tiles. I honestly had the hardest time doing my job simply because I couldn't listen any more.  Of all of the difficult shows I've complained about over the years I've never felt I wasn't up to the task of mixing it. And even if it sounded band I was always working to make it as good as it can be. This show proved that I have some limits. Fortunately I didn't need to do much. And I can't help but think that despite the acclaim of  the musicians playing or even the crowd that came out, that this music has no business being played in a concert hall. It's supposed to be about connecting with people and I have a hard time believing that anyone was connecting to what these guys were doing. There once was a time and a place for this music, when it served a purpose and spoke to people. What I saw last night while I'm sure it was gratifying to the players was stripped of it's meaning when it failed to move the audience emotionally.  Last night wasn't about freedom and expression, it was just noise.