Lessons from the
Library
 My local public library is a
second home to my family. Because I’m usually there with my two kids, I spend much of
my time in the library’s children’s room. Just a few days after submitting the
editorial for last month, however, I was on a rare visit to the adult nonfiction section
when a small poster caught my eye. It announced that April would be Jazz Appreciation
Month (delightfully abbreviated to JAM), at least according to the Smithsonian
Institution.
Jazz holds the distinction of being a homegrown art form
that exemplifies many of the principles that are culturally important to the United
States. It demands originality and individuality of its performers, but also a willingness
to work within a group to make music that is greater than the sum of its parts. This is
also a good quality for a hi-fi system: each component must do its part exemplarily, yet
hopefully combine with the rest of the system to reproduce music in a way that is greater
than each component’s individual contribution. Too bad, I thought, that I’d
missed an opportunity to opine on jazz and hi-fi in an editorial during Jazz Appreciation
Month itself.
When I reflected on it more, however, I began to think
about the very nature of labeling certain months with kinds of appreciation. After all, at
our house, every month is Jazz Appreciation Month. I worry that proclaiming one
month Jazz Appreciation Month (or Women’s History Month, etc.) suggests that a single
month is sufficient for the appreciation of such a rich subject. Does it signal to those
unfamiliar with the topic that they could set aside a few nights in April and be able to
appreciate the nature and breadth of jazz? If it does, then it may do more harm than good.
If you hadn’t known that April was Jazz Appreciation
Month and you don’t usually listen to jazz, I hope you find some time this
month to take a listen. Whatever your usual musical tastes, I’m sure there’s a
type of jazz that will appeal to you -- contemporary electronica wouldn’t be what it
is without people like Herbie Hancock; Duke Ellington’s large-scale pieces can be
enjoyed by classical junkies; and I’ve yet to meet anyone who doesn’t appreciate
the great works of Charles Mingus or Louis Armstrong.
During that same visit to the library I saw another poster,
this one for a local concert series featuring a large range of musical styles. The event
that caught my eye read simply, "Bill Ware: Vibes." Ware, a jazz musician and
composer best known for his work with the Jazz Passengers, grew up in the town I now live in, and was scheduled
to perform in the library’s newly renovated basement on a Saturday night. I made a
note of the time and date in hopes that I’d both remember and not be too tired.
(Remember those two kids I mentioned? Very tiring.)
Much to my surprise, when the Saturday came I both
remembered and wasn’t too tired, so off I went to the library. (I’m sure my
20-year-old self would be horrified at the apparent uncoolness of spending a Saturday
night at a public library. Too bad for him.) The renovations had done wonders for the
basement, but the instruments had been set up along a long wall of the rectangular room
and, as I’d speculated beforehand, this was not good for the sound. The
reverberations were at times overwhelming and, at my dead-center seat, the bass was sucked
out in a way that left it at times almost inaudible. Luckily, beautiful live music trumps
concerns about acoustics.
Bill Ware’s group consisted of himself on vibes, Brad
Jones on bass, and Tommaso Cappellato, aka Fallou, on drums. Their fantastic two-set show
consisted of original compositions, as well as covers of tunes by Hank Mobley and Marvin
Gaye. Ware and Jones have played together since the late 1980s, and the longtime
association shows in their playing. Fallou joined them only a few years ago, but his
drumming was an essential ingredient to the great music I heard that night. After the
show, Fallou directed me to his website, www.tommasocappellato.com, from which MP3s of his music can be
downloaded; it’s well worth a visit.
The show reminded me of one aspect of live music that even
the best hi-fi system can’t replicate: spontaneity. Often during the show, the
musicians decided what to play on the spot, their choices no doubt dictated by their mood
and the audience’s reactions. This element of surprise is necessarily lacking in
recorded music -- no matter how many times you play your favorite album, you’ll never
hear anything different from what you heard the first time. Recorded music is, in this
sense, static; live music is fluid, taking shape as you listen.
Live music’s element of surprise can be key to its
emotional impact. Ware’s choices of songs, such as Hank Mobley’s
"Ultramarine," kept putting a smile on my face. I realized that I don’t
have that same kind of emotional reaction to my favorite records. Recorded music does
provide us with things that live music does not, such as a chance to revisit the music and
come to know it intimately, but the energy and spontaneity of live music can’t be
recaptured once you’ve heard it. It’s a good argument for attending live musical
events whenever you can; if you can do yourself a favor and catch Ware, Jones, and Fallou,
you won’t be disappointed.
This month’s lead review is also a product of
spontaneity. One day at Costco, on a whim, I picked up Samsung’s DVD-HD841 universal
A/V player. Packing so much into a player that lists for only $199.95 -- and which I
bought for $99 -- hooked me. As you’ll see from the review, I was more than
pleasantly surprised.
Much of our lives demand planned, rational activity -- but
spontaneity and trips to the library can be much more fun.
…Eric D. Hetherington
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