Miles To Go

May 12: I was recently listening to an interview with pianist Herbie Hancock as he talked about his early years learning to play jazz with the Miles Davis Quintet. He spoke of an evening when “everything we did just worked. It was like you could read the other guy’s mind. And then, after a long solo, I ended on a wrong note. Not just a ‘bad choice’, as some musicians might say, but a completely wrong note. It just made no sense at all.” He expected Davis to make an example of his inexperience, but instead, after a beat or two, he did a solo built entirely on the mistaken note.

It was at that moment that Hancock began to truly understand creativity. From his perspective, it was the ability to take something unexpected, or perhaps even wrong, and use it as the basis of experimentation. It was the ability to accept something as it is and use it to take your creativity in a new or different direction.

Frequent reader(s) will know that I have been a member of the New Horizons Band for the last couple of years. I can more or less play pieces like this one, navigating through time changes, key changes, accidental notes, a short solo, and a host of dynamics. It has been a bit like learning a new language and it’s a measure of how far I have come that I can look at a score like this and not have a heart attack. Still, I’m at a very early stage in my musical development – I’m no Herbie Hancock and never will be. And in a way, that’s a problem. To take my musical ability to a higher level, where I can be truly comfortable playing more complex musical arrangements, will take an investment of time and effort that I am presently unwilling to make.

The process of learning something new takes patience and repetition. I think that learning music is especially demanding because the timing and the pitch and the inflection all have to be correct every time. It literally takes years of practice to build a base of knowledge upon which greater creativity can then be built. At this point, the commitment of time to practicing music feels like an obligation that interferes with other interests, rather than an investment in something exciting that will take me to a higher level.

I’ve recently completed a couple of new paintings that go in a slightly different direction from the work I usually attempt. What I have realized is that I now have adequate skills that allow me to place paint on canvas and then make something from it, whether what I do initially is what I intended, somehow not technically correct, or perhaps more simply a “mistake”. Through years of practice it finally feels like I am accomplished enough to accept what the paint does and then, if needed,  to evolve the painting into something that pleases me.

The visual arts are exciting and interesting to me. It now feels like this is an area where I want to devote more attention,  more learning and experimentation. Art is enjoyable to me, not an obligation,  and worthy of a greater commitment of time and practice on my part. Not to be pretentious, but I think this quote from astronaut Chris Hadfield, about personal fulfillment, is appropriate:

“Decide in your heart of hearts what really excites and challenges you, and start moving your life in that direction. Every decision you make, from what you eat to what you do with your time tonight, turns you into who you are tomorrow, and the day after that. Look at who you want to be, and start sculpting yourself into that person. You may not get exactly where you thought you’d be, but you will be doing things that suit you in a profession you believe in. Don’t let life randomly kick you into the adult you don’t want to become.”