And, writing of my dear friend and colleague Davu, there was a mis-billing of the February 21 gig at the Black Dog. I was absolutely serious when, after the first set, I announced the name of  the group as “The Davu Seru Trio” (though “Davu Seru/Milo Fine/Paul Metzger” would have been more accurate). After all, Davu approached me about playing and he booked the gig. The fact that, in a belated listing on the Black Dog calendar, the band was accredited to me likely had something to do with my seniority/longevity, because, to say that I lack drawing power is, to be sure, an understatement. (In solely that regard, and given his “following”, it would indeed have made more sense for the venue to list Davu’s name first!) Still, when it came to listing the personnel on the calendar, the ordering was appropriate. But that was because the detailing was copied from my website. And while I could have contacted the Black Dog to correct the listing (and they would have been good about making the adjustment), I didn’t for several reasons. First, it was Davu’s gig! [smile] Additionally, the concert was only a week or so away, and, quite frankly, most people don’t bother reading calendars (and if they do, don’t pay attention to such details). As, from my perspective, this music is genuinely collaborative, I’m just, er, fine being perceived as a “sideman” or “leader”  – because, to be clear, each participant takes on these roles in varying ways and to various degrees during the course of a concert — but, unless there is an understanding or agreement beforehand (such as someone booking something on my behalf, or an agreed upon gesture of respect), he or she who books the gig should get top billing. Following, a photo of Davu by Jesse from the concert mentioned above. (And do note whose photo was run first ['nother smile].)

On another matter entirely, and one not warranting a separate post, it would seem I have been, to use the current lexicon, “punk’d”. Unfortunately, the motivation/agenda behind “the joke”, while seemingly good natured is, in reality, part of ongoing attempts to belittle me for not having followed stringent party lines in the manner in which I have conducted myself; to wit, my opinions about various musics, musicians and critics. Particularly given my position in the food chain, the fact that aforesaid opinions have stuck in certain taste-maker’s/gate-keeper’s craws to the extent that, at this point, they have resorted to something which could be construed as borderline bullying/harassment is fascinating, but ultimately pathetic; made even more-so by the fact that they have involved young, willfully ignorant tools in their latest efforts. And while my even mentioning it is giving the situation more energy than it’s worth, I do so “for the record”, as it serves as more evidence that the path I have chosen is viable and necessary. (And, never mind that most of the few people who might read this will have no idea as to what I’m on about. In spite of it [like everything] being “de minimis”, I nonetheless felt compelled to vent without drawing more attention to the actual nonsense at hand.)

Which brings us to this gig at the Dog. Particularly in light of the fact that most often, the gigs Davu and I play together are ones I’ve organized, he recently expressed an interest in taking those reigns. Problem was, as is so often the case, finding a venue. So, during a recent phone conversation, and particularly in (another) light of (another) fact that he regularly plays at the Black Dog I suggested he might approach Sara, with a caveat. While the regulars there aren’t as provincially bourgeoise as the Maude crowd, they are nonetheless generally not enamored of what is construed (however incorrectly!) as “difficult” music. So, particularly in (yet another) light of (yet another) fact that the Dog now has a decent upright piano, and, still remembering “Our Night at Maude” with Paul, I thought it might be enjoyable to have another go at the adaptation aesthetic. And so, Davu booked us the gig, with a vital addition. Didier is going to be in town for a couple days, and asked Sara to ask Davu about sitting in. As I’ve had several satisfying encounters with Didier, which at one time, came close to involving Paul and Davu, there was no question of an affirmative response. First set, trio. Second set, quartet. First set, adaptation aesthetics. But with the conjoining of those “live wires” (figuratively and literally) for the second, all bets could be off.

Postscript: Ironically (and fittingly) the quartet set was actually more in keeping with those “adaptation aesthetics”, but it didn’t really matter as the vast majority of the people there seemed to be there for the music rather than the venue. Also ironically, the first  (trio) set seemed to me to be more of a direct extension of the Maude gig to great effect; certain tensions morphing into a sort of “bent jazz” vibe.

Further postscript: No thanks to Sony, whose proprietary  and short-sighted designs (i.e.; a recorder wherein the most important component is the most prone to breakage), and many thanks to the editing skills of Paul Metzger, a limited edition LP (100 copies) of the quartet set above produced by Mark Trehus is in the works.

I have, for decades, been interested in the idea of improvising within some sort of formally composed structure. But, given my tendency towards reclusiveness fueled by a distaste for political maneuvering, any tangible opportunity has been elusive. On the other hand, conducting oneself in a manner wherein the work rather than careerism is the focus would seem to provide opportunities at the most unexpected times. Granted, during at least one of our listening/discussion sessions, and knowing full well that he was a composer as well an a jazz musician and free improvisor, I none-too-subtley broached the subject with Stefan Kac, a valued colleague and friend. Still, I had no idea that he would actually devise such a framework and invite me to be the soloist (on a restored, antique 85-key [!] Steinway grand piano, no less). (The very fact that he has managed to assemble the 14 piece Symphonic Transients Orchestra, which, at this point exists — including rehearsals! — without funding is a testament to his drive, if not some form of  madness. Now, granted, for any number of reasons, many music ensembles exist simply because people want to get together to play music. But a chamber group founded outside of the academy specializing in original, contemporary formally composed music is a rare beast indeed.) Thus, I am greatly anticipatingthe concerts on May 20 and 22 at the Northern Warehouse in St. Paul. As conceived by Stefan, the framework for my improvising will consist of a suite-like structure of several compositions by Stefan along with a piece by Scott Newell, marking the the first time that Scott’s unique notational system will be extrapolated to an ensemble.

Post script: As a precedent of sorts to the above, Blue Freedom’s New Art Transformation (at that point a trio consisting of me, Joe Smith and Rick Barbeau) improvised with the Minnesota Orchestra (!) in 1973, as they played Karel Husa’s “Music For Prague”. The relatively short piece was part of an afternoon event; one concert in an ongoing series at Coffman Memorial Union (University of Minnesota) spotlighting contemporary music; replete with Q & A sessions with the composers, and, in our case, me, as an improvisor. (And while some might accuse me of nepotism, as my father was a member of the Orchestra, the collaboration was actually the result of a comment I made to associate conductor George Trautwein during an interview I did with him for a local publication. And while I was surprised at his interest in improvisation, and the resulting interface — which ended up happening under the baton of  Trautwein’s successor, Henry Charles Smith — one must keep in mind the time frame in question. At that point, major labels were signing avant garde jazz musicians, contemporary classical music was presented in psychedelic rock venues, etc. For a short time, and for a number of reasons [not all good ones] certain doors were slightly ajar. That, for some time, they have been closed goes without saying. To wit, can one imagine a major orchestra being interested in an interface with free improvisation at this point in time?) Naturally, this was a markedly different beast than Stefan’s construction, as the piece in question was not created to be a foundation for improvisation; an issue which one questioner addressed. (My clever answer had to do with the reality that there are always sounds surrounding any composition; in this case, our sounds were intended.) So, while I’m sure the composer received his royalties, I’m equally sure he wasn’t aware that we were utilizing his music in this manner. Perhaps he would have appreciated it, as, after all, the impetus for the composition had to do with a very real, pragmatic desire for freedom. Perhaps not. In any case, it was a wonderful experience for me; underscored by the irony that, overall, it was the older cats in the Orchestra who dug it.

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