RULE #1 - Work Hard The Laboratory "The Laboratory", for the uninitiated, refers to my rehearsal space in the basement of my house.  I like to think of it as a place to experiment.  It is my opinion that music needs to be played with, not just played, to keep it alive.  In this space my friends and I do precisely that and, from time to time, it even gets recorded.  You may notice on some of the CDs on which I appear that there are tracks recorded at "The Laboratory".   I will make a long story short by saying that it sounds more professional than "Randy's basement".   Now you all know, so it's not a secret, but hey...     I have friends who visit me at The Laboratory because they share my curiosity.  We discuss theory and composition.  We play.  We ask questions.  This page is for them mostly, but it is also for me.   I would love to know what others think of it, so if you have stumbled upon it, read on.   If you have comments, please send them to me at randy@randysutin.com  Thank you!     Music When many of my younger friends who are music students first come here, they usually wish to have some help with their music theory, composition, or improvisation.   They have many questions and, frankly, most of the answers to those questions as well.  I have found the biggest hurdle is that they don't know which questions it is to which they lack the answers.  If you are one of them and are visiting this page because I told you to review this stuff, you will remember this question as the prime directive: What is music? First and foremost, there is no one correct answer.  Least likely is it that, of the possible answers, mine will be found to be the most correct.  That won't stop me.  Here is the answer I like that best suits the kind of exploration I like to undertake. Music is sound that is to be listened to, heard, and felt which starts at a defined point in time and ends at a defined point in time.  These points in time create the frame that houses the art form. Notice, this definition makes no attempt to say what is good music or bad music.   Those judgements are to be made based on aesthetic considerations unique to each genre.   Some forms of music nearly ignore parameters of sound that are central to others; no one clear set of rules can be established for good vs. bad which will apply to  all music.   How silly would it be to criticize a Telemann piece for harpsichord because its sound wasn't really  powerful enough to fill a football stadium?   It would be equally hideous to criticize a recording of Hindustani classical music because of its failure to stay within European equal temperment intonation.   So, for now, let's just leave good vs. bad alone until we get to the other end of the discussion and find ourselves embroiled in a particular style. Also, notice that this is a very open definition that would allow, for instance, the recitation of poetry to qualify.  It is music of the spoken word. There are some things I do not consider to be music by this definition.   A score for a Beethoven symphony does not qualify, for instance.  That is a grand example of music notation, but not music.   Also, the sounds emitting from the radio in your dentist's office (along with the muffled screams from the back room) do not qualify unless you have made it your time and space to listen to sounds; if they are there to simply mute your senses or incompetently attempt to block you from thinking about the imminent pain you will endure, my definition has not been met.   If however, you are a sick puppy, and have gone to the dentist intent upon sitting there and listening to the soundscape (screams, drills whining and all), it then becomes music.  Further, it should be noted that most of the recordings played in those settings were definitely created as music, performed as music and much of it is very, very good when you allow it to be itself.   In this setting, however, it is the aesthetic equivalent of a white noise machine (which some dentists also employ).   If you wrap a piece of fish in a canvas that happens to be the Mona Lisa, its worth as art is negated in my opinion.   Conversely, if you take a piece of plain brown paper in which your fish was wrapped at the deli and place it on a pedestal in an art museum, it becomes art.   It will not be good art, in all likelyhood, but it will be art nonetheless.   Music Theory With a definition of music of music in hand, the next logical step is to define music theory.   Again, I make no presumption that my definition is the best. I am quite sure it is not. Nor will the answer to my next question be the best answer, but I will ask the question anyway because it is the next step. What is music theory? Music theory is a lexicon of sorts.  It is a system of vocabulary and/or rhetoric which enables the articulate discussion, analysis, criticism and teaching of music.   It provides and explains a framework of musical notation or other means, such as syllabification, used to transmit the teaching of music and/or express a composer's intent. Music theory is not a set of rules for composition.  It is, rather, the methodology of analysis to determine common elements of the music being examined and a naming system that allows discussion of those elements.  With such a pursuit, one has to start somewhere; many of the familiar theory textbooks choose Bach as a favorite because the pristine perfection of his compositions gives something concrete to a young student on which they can build.   If, in fact, these texts were rules of composition, the resulting choral exercises created by the "A" students would all sound like Bach, which clearly they do not.  There is more to composition than just understanding how to recognize, name, and recreate vertical stuctures similar to those created by the linear creativity of a Baroque master, which is pretty much what those texts will do for you. The next most difficult hurdle is understanding what the above means when it comes time to do your music theory homework.   In every theory textbook, you can find examples of musical notation which are there to demonstrate the particular concept being taught.   Herein lies the problem.  Musical notation is NOT music.   The textbook is about music, but (prior to the advent of computers) it was really hard to put sounds into something you were reading.   The authors did the next best thing; they included examples of musical notation, assuming the student would be curious and either play them or, if they are blessed with exceptional ears, look at them and immediately infer what the sound they represent would be.   HUGE PROBLEM, FOLKS...  a) the average student hasn't been told to read their theory text at the keyboard  b) the handful with ears that good don't really need the theory textbook that much anyway. So, I offer a rule for music theory students: Always read your theory homework at the piano, enter the examples into whatever notation software you have on your computer and play them back, or get somebody else to play and/or record them for you.  Bottom line, if you don't get to hear what they sound like, everything you read is meaningless. If you abide by this rule, you will soon find that, for instance, a plagal cadence is not just a mathematical relationship between the musical constructs which the dots located on lines on a page represent, but rather a particular kind of sound that you have heard thousands of times and implicitly recognize.  With that kind of ease in your mind, you can get on to more pressing things like knowing what to do with a plagal cadence in a compositional sense.  You can stop worrying about whether you know what to call it when you hear it.  If you have not heard it, you may well wonder if 4 to 1 is not similar or even equivalent to 8 to 2. ***************************************************** ok.   Deep cleansing breath everyone.  ommmmmm. ***************************************************** With this pattern of thinking clearly set as the root of your outlook you must now grow to understand the next somewhat frustrating aspect (but ultimately this is the imperfection that makes it beautiful like a diamond) of music theory.   So here is my next rule for music theory students. Music is a reflection of the culture from which it springs.  There are as many different kinds of music as there are cultures on this planet.   Within each of those cultures, there exist subcultures with discretely different music resulting.   That said, there can be many different ways to describe the same element of music which occurs in multiple cultures; None are necessarily rendered incorrect by the others.   Similarly, there are some elements of music which are different from one genre to the next which are described using the same terminology or symbology.   Get used to it.  We live in a pluralistic world.   When employing our music theory skills to discuss music, everything is relative to the genre we discuss and the culture from which it comes.  In your study of music theory, you will have different teachers.   Some will describe the same musical elements using different terminology; others will use the same terminology to describe different elements and neither will be right or wrong.  Learn to hear them for who they are and from their perspective and you will extract the most from them as teachers. If this seems vague to you and you don't quite get what I am writing about, open your music notation program on your computer.  Set up a blank lead sheet for a tune and start entering some chord symbols.   Tell me how many different options you have for notating a major seventh chord.   Also tell me exactly what the difference between a half-diminished chord and a minor seventh flat five chord is if you can; I think you can't because there is none.   Go back to Bach and look at some photographic images of the original scores of the chorales which are familiar to you as exercises in analysis; you will see yet another set of musical notation conventions than you have grown used to in modern textbooks.  Neither is incorrect. Well, either that or neither of them are correct.   Truth is, I know of no system of theory or notation which accurately describes all parameters of music.   Many styles of music are carried forth as an oral tradition for that very reason.   Even European music, which is heavily notated by tradition, still required a master teacher to pass on to the students the nuances which are not written but have been developed and passed along over time as common performance practices.  Given all the personal choices you can make, it turns out that a lead sheet is only slightly more vague than the written score for a Chopin Nocturne. Composition So, let's say you have memorized every aspect of your theory text.  You are a master of the norms of Common Practice harmony and can create theoretically correct florid counterpoint while balancing a hedgehog on the tip of a broomstick.   What then is the dividing line between this and composition.  What is composition that is not found in the result of these exercises. Probably very little.  Truth told, by the time you get that far in your studies, your innate sense of what is and isn't good composition will probably guide you there without too much effort.   You will listen to what you have written and, if it doesn't sound like it "makes sense", you will probably correctly infer that it is bad composition.   If you are a jazz musician, the crowd may throw things at you. It is time for a truly half-baked definition.   I am still working on this one.   Once again, with feeling, if you have comments on this please email me at randy@randysutin.com What is composition? Musical composition is the arrangement and juxtaposition of sounds within the time framework the composer has previously determined to be the start and end of the performance.   It is about the relative relationships of these musical elements as well as the absolute (a sound can be high, for instance, in the absolute as it nears the edge of the human hearing range or relative to another sound; a rhythm is rapid or slow in the absolute as it pushes the limit of our sense of time to feel it or relative to a preestablished pulse).  The key elements of musical composition are linearity, harmony, timbre, pulse, rhythm, dynamics, orchestration, development of germinal gestures, relation to life's soundscape and last but far from least, silence. I need to work on that one.   It will do for now.   For me, as mostly a jazz musician, it seems fine. I will attempt to write much more on this as the sessions here at The Laboratory explore each of these elements in depth.   That's all for now folks. Improvisation At  last, something easier to define: What is Improvisation? Improvisation is spontaneous composition. The main thing to remember is that improvisation is an aural practice.  The main skill is hearing.  The main way to improve your hearing is to transcribe music.  So do this daily.  Transcribe, analyze.  Don't worry so much about ever playing the solos, just keep transcribing so you recognize sounds as they happen.  With that, your instincts will kick in and you can just compose as you hear and play what you compose as you hear it. There are some norms established in some styles of improvised music regarding which elements get improvised and which do not.  The rule there is "When in Rome..." If you are, for instance, playing a standard bebop tune, I think it unwise (unless you reaaaaallly know the other guys on the bandstand well and they are going to be with you on this one) to improvise on the structure of the tune, adding or subtracting a few bars here and there.   Hey, if that's the ground rules, go for it.  Generally, it is not when playing bebop, but if you know the guys and are all listening...   Like I said.  When in Rome. For me, the greatest lesson in this was working with Eddie Green.  In particular, Eddie played an arrangement of Gershwin's "It Ain't Necessarily So".   I loved it because Eddie played the improvised section as a modal romp that went on and on until you couldn't stand the pressure any more and then the bridge would happen.    Like I said, if you know the guys and that's the ground rules, it is beautiful.   We all felt it and it happened.   It wasn't in any particular place other than exactly where it belonged.   Sometimes we would play seven or eight A sections to get to the bridge. Try that with a typical wedding band and it's train wreck time, folks.  Kids, don't try that at home. Like I said... when in Rome. I have been collecting "rules" of improvisation from teachers and masters I have crossed paths with for the last thirty or so years.  Many of these were probably been passed down from others, but I will credit them here with the individuals with whom I most associate them.  Here are my top ten: 1.  Keep your ears open  - Rudy Jones 2.  When in doubt, lay out   -Ray Shiner 3.  Learn the tunes  -Dr. Jim Miller 4.  Better strong and wrong than light and right.  -Ray Shiner 5.  If you want to play well, play tunes you can play well  -Larry Ham 6.  If you don't make some mistakes, you are not trying hard enough   -Mickey Roker 7.  Play every note, every night to the best of your ability  - Junior Cook 8.  Your sound affects every note you play  - Rudy Jones 9.   Be yourself; don't try to be like another musician just because they are hip - Rudy Jones 10. If you are not in the groove, you are not in the game.  -Junior Cook Peace, randy