Patrick Foley’s Blog

I thought I’d be able to sleep tonight, but I can’t. I just had the most fun on stage since playing with Pavarotti almost ten years ago (a little name-dropping never hurt anybody, hmm?). Alten Skies came off wonderfully. Ric Troll is a genius composer, and the whole band played great. Ric was great on drums. David Devos more than lived up to his reputation as the funkiest white bass player around. Jeff Boughner was at the top of his game – what a guitar sound. Bob Hartig was his usual jaw-dropping, bopping self on sax. And what a treat to have Kurt Ellenberger join us at the piano. He was truly amazing, and he helped bring the sound of the band together in ways that we hadn’t achieved before. And oh yeah, I wasn’t too shabby tonight, either!

I loved the fact that I didn’t solo quite as much in this concert (I soloed on 4 out of 10 tunes to be precise). That allowed me to enjoy listening to the other musicians more, and I felt more prepared and energetic when I did have a solo. My first one (on Mountain Waltz) was a bit wobbly in the middle – I lost my confidence in the harmony – but I found my way back and just let it go. The moment passed and nobody got hurt. My second solo (on Twilight Zone Weather Funk – a fairly complex blues progression) was probably the best I had ever done in public. I think I might have nailed it. It sure felt good.

Of course, that solo jinxed the recording. Every time I play a really good solo, the recording equipment dies. I think that’s fate’s way of reminding me that music is ephemeral. Shortly after that solo, my arm noticeably slipped a bit while patting myself on the back, and I realized I needed to let the good moments go as well as the bad.

I learned so much tonight. It was cool to see Bob and Kurt take their sweet time with solos. They were in no particular hurry to get where they were going or to finish. They said what they had to say for as long as the felt they needed to say it. So cool. As a band, we took a few departures from our plan, but I thought we dealt with those departures pretty well tonight.

I went into this show more prepared than I ever had been for a jazz gig, which is not saying a lot. Coming from a classical background, I’ve backed into jazz and improvising by simply overcoming my fear of it and jumping in – faking it. Now that I’ve gotten past the fear, I can stomach being more critical of myself, and I see where I need to improve. I need to learn jazz harmony cold. From my ears straight to my fingers. It’s going to take a lot of work, and I don’t even really know how to practice yet. I’m leaning on my band mates to help me learn how.

For this concert, I at least practiced the heads (melodies), and I slowly worked out possible interesting notes and licks for each chord. I knew I wouldn’t remember everything, but that would keep the tension there. On one song (The Other Crowd), I decided to script the opening of my solo and strive for a more specific quality than I normally do. I wouldn’t want to do that on every tune, but I think it made for a good contrast for me. I used more repetition on that solo, which makes it sound more intentional – that’s good for me. Still, I wasn’t thrilled with the bridge (middle part). I just didn’t seem in the pocket with the harmony again – not bad, but not great. Jeff soloed right after me, and I love what he did on the bridge. I just smiled and thought, “What a great way to do that.” I had many pleasurable moments like that tonight.

On the way to the show, I realized that I was excited and nervous in a good way. I was really looking forward to playing. I don’t remember feeling that very often about playing a classical music concert. Playing in an orchestra was typically a job. I usually liked it when I got there, but I didn’t particularly look forward to it. And playing a solo, especially in front of an orchestra, was simply too nerve-racking. On those days, I’d be sick to my stomach and focusing like an athlete. Frankly, I looked forward to having played on such days, not actually to playing.

This is big for me. I didn’t wake up one day and say, “I am no longer going to play the violin.” It just drifted away from me. So much of my identity was tied up in music that this was a significant loss. I always say that an artist is someone who creates beauty not because he has something to say but simply because he has to – because that is what he is compelled to do when he gets up in the morning (I think I’m paraphrasing Faulkner on writing, but I’m not sure). Somewhere along the line, I stopped being compelled to pick up the violin and play Sibelius just a little bit better. I still love classical music, I’m just not drawn to it anymore. And for some reason that hurts me.

But I am finding myself drawn more and more to jazz. I find myself wanting to listen to it. I find myself compelled to learn more so I can play it better, and I enjoy the learning. For the first time in a very, very long time, I feel in the moment with music. And it’s starting to swing.

This entry was posted on Saturday, April 2nd, 2005 at 2:18 am and is filed under Life and Family, Music and Arts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.