Saturday, April 7, 2018

Cecil Taylor

I was not surprised to read that the major figure of avant guard music Cecil Taylor had died at the age of 89, an age at which I know many people seem to be shocked that people die.*  I am surprised that a chain smoker such as I've read he was could have made it that far. 

Cecil Taylor's music was always exciting, always pushing out the boundaries of what music was supposed to be, especially of what people thought jazz should be.  He would certainly have not fit into the doctrinaire definitions of it, such as that of Rudi Blesh or as promoted in Ken Burns' very limited PBS series.  I mention that because one member of the talented but conservative Marsalis family, someone whose music is listenable but seldom innovative or boundry pushing pissed me off by dissing the far more talented and courageous Cecil Taylor in it, no doubt discouraging some neophytes from giving Taylor's music a listen**.   That's something that has been pissing me off ever since I heard it when it was first aired.   I say to hell with people who discourage people from trying music. 

The one time I was witness to Cecil Taylor's performance, it was one of the most exciting and fascinating things I've ever heard and seen, an experience that the recordings of his music can give but can't recreate in full.  It was in some ways scary because it was so intense and Cecil Taylor had a way of bringing you into the experience, make you feel that what he was doing was important enough to give it your full attention.  I have, in other places, posted part of his famous collaborative performances with the great figure in jazz, Mary Lou Williams, which was as fascinating for its being a congenial mixture of oil and water, their approaches were so different that the account of the difficulties were almost as interesting as the results.  Given that, as a piano player, Mary Lou Williams was always pushing boundaries, trying new things, going new places, even in her late and to an extent retrospective performances, it was worth hearing.  And I will be posting some of their collaboration with some of the recordings of Cecil Taylor's music in the coming week. 


I can imagine their happy meeting in glory is at least as exciting. 


*  I read such shocked lamentations histrionically made, declaring that it was proof that there is no God, when the etimable Irwin Corey died at the age of 102 last year.   I wonder what kind of joke Corey would have gotten out of such a display. 

**  Speaking about Jazz, the Burns series, not the music:

Until the final segments, Jazz maintains a flat, dull tone. But as the 1960’s come around and the history of the music itself loses an obvious linear thread, the hand of Mr. Marsalis becomes more evident. Regarding the avant-garde pianist Cecil Taylor, the film gets downright nasty–and it is Mr. Marsalis’ brother, Branford, who gets to wield the ax. He calls Mr. Taylor’s music “self-indulgent bullshit.” Then critic Gene Lees opines, “He has every right to make the music he wants, and I have every right to listen to something else.”

I can't say that I ever got excited at hearing Branford Marsalis's music.

10 comments:

  1. I'd rather listen to Ornette Coleman than any jazz (Winton's classical work is not bad) by any Marsalis. I admit not knowing Cecil Taylor's work until I heard about his death, but now I'm interested.

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  2. 'Conquistador!' and 'For Olim' are my favorites by him. Challenging but rewarding. Requiescat in pace, rise in glory.

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  3. "I read such shocked lamentations histrionically made, declaring that it was proof that there is no God, when the etimable Irwin Corey died at the age of 102 last year. I wonder what kind of joke Corey would have gotten out of such a display. "

    I'll bet you do. Given that you don't get most jokes generally, and probably never got ANY of Corey's.

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    1. Gee, Simps, didn't you tell me "I'll bet" was Trumpian weasel words?

      I know the joke of you and the Eschatots going on histrionically over the very aged, you know, dying of old age.

      I listened to the video of his funeral which was just full of praying for his soul. It was touching.

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  4. "I listened to the video of his funeral which was just full of praying for his soul. It was touching. h, "

    Oh, I'm sure you did. I also believed you listened to a video of trained sheep piloting the Mars lander.

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    1. You you believe I listened to a video of trained sheep?

      Dopey, anyone can listen to it, it's posted on Youtube. Or do you think that only shows up in the tiny little world of the lesser NYC area? You really are about the most provicial person I interact with these days. There was a time I didn't figure people growing up where you did was a sign of yahooism. Till there was you.

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  5. And yet another joke goes sailing six miles over your empty noggin.

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    1. Stupy, let me give you a hint, you don't get to say just any stupid thing and when someone tops it, easily, you don't get to claim it was a joke. Especially when it was not funny.

      You are flaccid, not sharp.

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  6. "Stupy, let me give you a hint, you don't get to say just any stupid thing and when someone tops it..."

    Smug, humorically-challenged and self-congratulatory is no way to go through life, son.

    :-)

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    1. Let me give you another hint, Simps, you do not possess and will never possess what it takes for me to feel condescended to by you, the slightest reason that I would respect your opinion of me. Or any credible suspicion that you're capable of fathering someone. As I told you before, the only joke you've ever had a grasp of was in your hand before a urinal.

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