For several important reasons, it became clear in the second half of 2022 that Rova and Rova:Arts needed to take time off from performances and producing shows to focus on some other issues that would require our full attention. But we want you to know: we are here, collaborating behind the curtain, gathering ideas, re-energizing our bodies and minds, and adjusting to the new realities of our current era. All this while thinking positively about the future for Rova and the possibilities for adventurous music making.
We are planning Rova’s 45th Year Special Deluxe with added guests TBA for September 14 at the Freight and Salvage in Berkeley.
Rova Interviews Itself, Part 2
Below is Jon Raskin’s response. Enjoy
1. How did you become interested in improvisation?
I became aware of improvisation when I joined my high school jazz band as a freshman. They needed a second alto; I could already play the instrument somewhat and they were vying for a state championship. Various players would improvise solos and when I asked about it, they would merely say, “You follow the chords and do what you want.” This intrigued me. Being a twin had made me aware of self-identify at an early age, which, of course, started off with how was I different from my brother. Improvising suggested self-expression and being aware of the moment. It was a compelling challenge as well: how do you do it, can I do it well, is it learned or innate, how do you create your own sound and approach? I’ve spent fifty-plus years working on figuring it out.
2. Why do you value improvisation?
For me, the value of improvisation is the way it allows musicians to create in the moment. It can be a very broad creative process, ranging from open form with no preconceived starting place to structures and games to all kinds of composed music that make use of improvisation. I like that it challenges you to create a voice, a point of view and to develop the skills to improvise in various musical situations.
Additionally, improvisation encourages the interactions of all participants as artists who contribute to the creation of the music, rather than mere interpreters of a composer’s vision. This is one of the ways in which it addresses hierarchies in music making, allowing players of different skill levels and backgrounds to create music together, something that has enriched my life considerably.
The following four quotes address some of what I see as the value of improvisation. I’ll start off with Frederic Rzewski’s recording of Steve Lacy in 1969: “In 1969 Steve was living in the MEV studio in Trastevere. One day I saw him coming out of a bar on Via dei Genovesi. I took out the Philips microcassette recorder I had just bought and asked, "Steve, in 15 seconds, what is the difference between composition and improvisation?" Without hesitation he answered, "In 15 seconds, the difference between composition and improvisation is that in composition you have all the time you want to think about what to say in 15 seconds, while in improvisation you have only 15 seconds." Back at home I timed his answer. It took exactly 15 seconds." This story really addresses the work that goes into being ready to improvise, having an approach that is both broad and in-depth. To be open to all kinds of music, other art forms, cultures, and all the things you find fascinating enriches your ability to improvise, to become an artist.
I’ll follow that with a quote on improvisation from Tim Perkis. He asks, “How wide is your now?” — meaning you need to be ready to be in the moment with honesty, knowledge, and the courage to create music. To quote Thelonious Monk, you need to “raise the bandstand,” which I interpret as creating a sense of community and connection.
The last quote is by Marcel Duchamp. It ties the audience, and for me, the community into the mix: "All in all, the creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualification and thus adds his contribution to the creative act.”
Improvisation is the most immediate and direct way to create community and culture; it’s a way of bringing everyone in the room closer to being in the moment and connected and together.
3. What are the elements of and inspiration for your sound, and how do they tie into your approach?
My first goal was to have a clear, rich, and in-tune sound through the range of the instrument. Later there was imitation, followed by exploration. I started to play around with changing, adding, subtracting, coloring, combining, and adapting tones, using them to express, invent, invert, and respond to the music. All of this requires asking questions: do I like or dislike, how about, what if, will this work, what are other ways, and so on. The questions of rhythm, melody, sounds, density, energy, and form come into play. How to use silence, the spaces between sounds, and feelings. For me tone is the key to developing my sound in general and specifically.
At the beginning, inspirations for developing a sound were seemingly constant and from all over the place, often evoked by the phrase “it changed my life.” Some of the musicians that influenced my sound and ideas, individuals who have stayed with me through the years, include my first teacher, Eddy Flenner, followed by Charles Lloyd, John Handy, Eric Dolphy, Miles Davis, Roscoe Mitchell, Phillip Rehfeldt, Anthony Braxton, Wadada Leo Smith, Julius Hemphill, Oliver Lake, Steve Lacy, Cecil Taylor, Evan Parker, Derek Bailey, Thelonious Monk, and Larry Ochs.
4. Talk about language in music and how you developed your language.
The language of music is incredibly broad and deep and I was hooked on learning as much as I could very early on. I participated in all the options available, starting at school then branching out to gigs with bands, theater, whatever presented itself as an opportunity.
The next step was the idea of developing “a voice,” which implies some originality and ties into the language of music, including my interest in using improvisation to expand my language on the saxophone. Initially, this started with imitation, which worked well as I was discovering and learning. As my study broadened, it became clear that developing a language was a key element in how I wanted to improvise, so I started making use of multiphonics, singing into the saxophone, and overtones, among other things.
When I was seventeen or so, I started taking my saxophone into different environments to play along with sounds around me. Interacting with these various soundscapes was about listening, and I started trying out whatever came to mind: emulating, dissecting, accompanying, soloing, finding interactions (reciprocated or not). For instance, when you play along with birds, they don’t pay attention but sometimes you could get into a dialogue of sorts with them. This was the start of developing a language of my own, thinking about using improvisation as the basis for creating music.
Studying at Johnston College with Dr. Barney Childs and Phillip Rehfeldt introduced me to a wide range of new music, including performances that begin without a preconceived starting point. We improvised with graphic scores, narrative, and instructions through which each performer would expand their individual language on their instruments.
The next year, I took jazz lessons in San Francisco with John Handy and I took classes at the SF Conservatory of Music, where I studied improvisation and composition with William Allaudin Mathieu. Mathieu introduced me to games and strategies for improvisers developed in the Ghost Opera, and often invited some of the ensemble’s members to participate in the class. They had varied backgrounds in jazz, new music, classical, and world music, all of which broadened my sonic landscape.
The next leap was when multi-instrumentalist Robert Haven introduced me to a group of musicians around the Bay Area who were interested in improvisation, and we started a workshop. This led to an annual free music festival and a storefront performance space for improvisers called the Blue Dolphin. We came from fairly diverse musical backgrounds and all of us brought in ideas to try out. We explored using a conductor to lead the improvisations, free jazz, non-idiomatic improvisations, compositions that featured improvisations, devised games and strategies, along with discussions of what worked and what didn’t.
The Blue Dolphin helped coalesce a scene which was much larger than we first realized and soon several other spaces opened up. The variety and breadth of ideas people were working with was inspiring and thrilling. The venues attracted visiting musicians and the cross-pollination enriched the scene.
Rova came out of an idea Bruce had for the annual free music festival Haven curated. The ideas we were interested in couldn’t be realized in one concert — they have sustained us for the last forty-five years. Each of us wanted to create our own language on our instruments, to figure out ways of using improvisation in all its variations. Asking questions was the way forward, discussing what you liked or didn’t, and more importantly why you didn’t like something; all of this fed into creating an ensemble language which we strived to make more than the sum of its components. One example of this was dealing with very dense improvisations that would end up sounding the same. We described this as “rocks in the box”: the overall sound didn’t change because the sonic material was being swapped between players. We came up with cues to change the nature of dense sections such as: Only three players at a time, (where the 4th person picks a person to replace); A & B ideas (each musician had two ideas that they played in dialogue with themselves and the others); adding various lengths of space between playing; and so on. “Rocks in the box” also led to use swapping as a positive feature. An example is our Radar cue called “sound fields” where you have a fairly defined sound area and find ways to interact akin to wind through tall grass or ocean waves.
The inspiration of solo performances by other musicians was crucial in my developing a musical language. Experiencing solo concerts at the Blue Dolphin by Oliver Lake and Wadada Leo Smith — along with a 1977 series of solo concerts at a small club in Berkeley called Mapenzi by Roscoe Mitchell, Anthony Braxton, Julius Hemphill, and Leroy Jenkins — became, in essence, an ongoing master class.
Around this time, through Larry’s wife Lyn Hejinian, I was becoming acquainted with the language poets, a very diverse group asking questions about poetic language that resonated with the questions Rova was engaged with. These writers formed a vibrant scene with unique approaches and voices, foregrounding language over conventional meaning-making and finding surprising ways to disrupt syntax. They used strategies to change temporal frames by shifting verb tense or dispersing and relocating narrative lines.
Both the solo concerts and the language poetry scene clarified my approach and helped give direction to the various practices I was engaged in.
5. How has improvisation developed since you started learning to do it?
It has become an accepted field of study, encompassing improvisation in all its different art forms and cultures currently and historically. It’s also become standard practice in American and European cultural aesthetics after a hundred-year or so banishment. There is more cross-fertilization using improvisation in collaborations with new media arts, poetry, dance, film, theater, and so on, both in methodology and practice.
6. What is the difference between structured improvisation and free jazz?
Maybe the question should be “structured/free improvisation and free jazz.” The terms reflect the cultures they came out of. Improvisation was being reintroduced into Western art music around the same time the roles of jazz musicians were freeing up as well. Both traditions were looking for new forms and sounds to explore. There was interest in cross-pollination in both camps and both were met with resistance; we could delve into a lot of cultural politics here. By the time I became aware of these two worlds, a growing number of artists embraced both scenes, as well as other traditions that incorporated improvisation. What binds all of these traditions is the desire for practitioners to have more agency.
7. What are your goals and what do you consider important when improvising?
Before the music begins my goals are to be in the moment, listening, feeling activated, present, and engaged. If it’s an ensemble, I usually find a spot to sit where I can easily hear the other musicians, as my goal is to add to the music that is happening and not mask or cover whatever is going on. If I can’t hear it, I stop and listen. While I’m playing, I pay attention to the flow, to where the music is going; I try to come in with something that sounds necessary and leave before it overstays its welcome. If someone is soloing or has a great direction I try and find ways to support this without diluting it (this also pertains to sub-groupings in the ensemble). General rules are if something is happening let it go on until it’s found an end, keep checking in on the other players and make sure I can hear them and see what they are up to. This doesn’t necessarily mean stop playing, but if I can’t hear everyone it’s often a sign that it’s time to stop.
If it’s a solo concert, the focus is on relaxing and letting things set up, not letting anxiety start to influence the flow of the music.
8. What do you consider important when composing for improvisers?
I like creating scores and situations each player can come at with their sound and language, to find things that create an identity. I’m always looking for ideas, images, sonic areas, and narratives that can be developed when played multiple times. The other thing about the scores is that, if needed, decisions can be made regarding who plays and when; this allows you to group and assign musical ideas and concepts, customizing the score for the players engaged in performing it.
9. How do questions and mystery influence your music?
Questions and mystery are essential elements. Without them I couldn’t compose music, improvise, or be involved with art.
10. What challenges are you currently engaged in in music?
Getting back to rehearsing in person, finding places to play, documenting the music, getting it ready for release along with getting reviewed and sold.
11. What are your thoughts about community in music?
Without community, music can’t develop or grow. You need a scene where you can hear, play, and try things out. Where you can make connections and learn from more accomplished musicians.
12. What and how do you practice? How do you improve your improvising skills ?
I usually warm up by improvising: I go with whatever comes out and see where it goes. That’s followed by fundamentals like tone, scales, intervals, and rhythms. For the last several years I’ve used Steve Lacy’s advice of playing scales, chords, and patterns from the lowest note on the instrument to the highest comfortable note; this is achieved through his “magic order” which uses the two whole tone scales, inserting the tritone between each whole tone. To build up endurance I like to play solo Bach cello and flute music, which make use of the entire range of the saxophone and are a real workout to play with all the repeats. Lacy’s Practitioner Solos are a regular practice item: they’re a challenge to play from a technical point of view and each one has an “intro” to improvise on, letting you dig into a small set of variables to realize to their full potential. I also spend time improvising on new ideas that need development. My practice includes time playing jaw harps, which helps hone my time; improvising and playing Irish tunes on my concertina; and singing. Lately I’ve been memorizing jazz tunes and other pieces I’m working on to record.
13. Where do you find inspiration?
I’ve composed works inspired by the sounds of a frozen waterfall starting to melt, the sounds of frogs at the pond outside of the music building at Mills College, from a photo of a flock of flamingos by Ernst Hass, a definition of the subatomic particle “strangeness,” winter clouds in the Sacramento Valley, a vacation in Hawaii using a travel phrase “A Journey Not A Destination,” contemplating “time,” making “decrescendo” the main focus, and a conceptual “juke box” that chooses diverse ideas from the play list of world music. And, of course, other musicians. Steve Lacy’s approach to the sound of his instrument, Duke Ellington and Charles Mingus for the brilliance of their compositions and for creating foils that showcased the musicians they worked with, Wadada Leo Smith for listening to every sound you can hear in the room and outside the room (and not just the musicians). Anthony Braxton thinking on improvisation and composition broadening the creative world to intergalactic dimensions.
Of course, working with Rova. We’re still asking interesting questions, creating group pieces and learning new compositions from each other. Another big source of inspiration is the Bay Area musicians I’ve had the honor to make music with over the years that they keep pushing the music forward.
14. What is an example of music you didn’t like at first but grew to love?
Hawaiian music — I only ever heard it on TV, and it was very commercial and schlocky. Then I had to travel for work to Hawaii. I had time to hear indigenous musicians play and found a record shop which specialized in Hawaiian music. I picked up recordings from the earliest albums to contemporary bands and the width and breadth of it really caught my ears and imagination. I was struck by how they’ve incorporated outside influences into their music while keeping their traditions alive. It was fascinating to see how much influence they have had on US culture; per capita Hawaiians produce some of the most influential music culture in the States.
15. What is your description of Rova and your relationship to it?
It is a quartet of like instruments deeply engaged in using improvisation as a core attribute for creating ensemble music. We wanted to develop a group language made up of individual approaches. From the beginning we examined how to organize music with no preconceived ideas, with structures, in group works and individual compositions.
16. What are your musical ideas for Rova and how have they changed over the years?
I’ve covered some of this already. It gets a bit murky to know whose idea was whose for a lot of our group work, especially when we slowly create and modify multiple options like the group project “Radar”, a method of communication while improvising. I like looking for small ideas that generate a lot of possibilities and I like breaking rules — not from being contrary but to find the edges of the idea and see where it leads. Sometimes it creates a new approach, sometimes it’s incorporated into the instructions. Over time, the Radar cues started being grouped into categories like “sound” or “process” or “other.” Sometimes an idea was a sound and process, so we would have to signify how to deploy it. We could keep a sound area and change the processes being used, and vice versa. Later we started building narratives through bundles of cues which could be fixed or ordered in real time. The idea was to create interesting improvisation pieces inside of a larger structure where even the structure was dynamic.
17. How has Rova changed over the years?
Deeper, wider, broader, wiser, more comfortable with letting the music go where it wants and needs to go.
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