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WILLIAM MCGLAUGHLIN:
Jazz Fan

© 1993 Mike Metheny


My initial albeit brief introduction to William McGlaughlin, conductor and music director of the Kansas City Symphony, remains vivid in memory. After all, how many symphony conductors would be seen hanging out in a low-lit little jazz joint like the now demolished Milton's at 32nd and Main?

In the fall of 1989 -- newly relocated in Kansas City after a 12 year stay in Boston -- my services as a sub for cornetist Gary Sivils were required one night at the historic (and now greatly missed) midtown venue. During a break, Mr. McGlaughlin was pointed out to me as he stood at the bar enjoying the ambiance and blending into the crowd. Memories of my classical days flashed before me. Symphony folk just didn't frequent places like Milton's! And the conductor of a city's major symphony orchestra? Never. The worlds jazz and classical were natural enemies and would always remain reluctant bedfellows. Or so the myth goes.

Fortunately for the local jazz community -- and for music in Kansas City as a whole -- such is not the case with William McGlaughlin.

In the past four years I've grown to greatly admire Mr. McGlaughlin. His knowledge of and love for all kinds of music is something to behold, and his ability to articulately discuss the finer points of jazz make him a rarity in the world of symphony conductors. The fact that he is considered a good friend of jazz musicians in Kansas City is no accident. It is a standing he has earned.

After a recent gig at the City Light Jazz Club -- with Bill at his familiar station stage left -- I was seized with an idea. Why not sit down and talk with him, but with a more jazz-oriented agenda in mind? It would be an atypical interview format for him, and it would give Kansas City jazz fans a chance to learn of another side to the Kansas City Symphony's dynamic captain. Bill was quick to accommodate. And a week later, fresh from a taping of his weekly NPR program "St. Paul Sunday Morning" (with special guest Art Farmer, no less), he invited me into his home for what proved to be an informative, comprehensive and highly enjoyable talk about a variety of jazz-related subjects.

Here is the text of our conversation from Nov. 5, 1993.



William McGlaughlin
William McGlaughlin
JAM: We first met at Milton's a few years ago and I remember being somewhat surprised that a symphony conductor would be hanging out in such a funky little place. Why the perception that the worlds of jazz and classical are so far apart?

WM: When I was at Temple University, I remember a theory professor there who, if he heard someone playing jazz in a practice room, would stop his class, go up and literally pull the student out of the practice room and say, "No! This room is reserved for..." you know, "the Diabelli Variations!" or whatever (laughs). I think it's a very "Eurocentric" thing, and rooted in those PC-like complaints about any music that isn't written by "dead, white European males." Which is mostly what's played in classical music. But another way to look at it is this: we (in the classical world) play some of the most extraordinarily beautiful, inspired creations of humankind. But, some of the people who play, prepare and teach those kinds of things are white European males who've died even though they're still walking around on the planet! (laughs)

I do wonder why that is, though (the chasm between the worlds of jazz and classical). I think that it was once really hard for people in America to become "cultured." And those who were cultured were very proud of it and they placed a barrier between those who were and those who were not. Obviously a lot of that has endured to this day. But, you know, I'm not sure the country really started out that way! There's a really wonderful book by (Berklee College faculty member) Lawrence Levine in which he talks about the time before the Civil War when there were opera houses all up and down New York and longshoreman were going to the opera. They'd sit in the front row, eat oranges, throw the peels into the pit, boo the Villain and whistle for the Good Guy. But they weren't just trying to make trouble. What they were doing -- instead of going to the movies or whatever back then -- they were really getting involved! And the fact that they were shouting back at Macbeth or Lear or whoever on the stage meant that they understood what was going on. There wasn't that barrier then that really started to come up after the Civil War with the great waves of immigrants who didn't speak English.

JAM: ...a kind of cultural "segregation" that actually lasted well into the 20th century?

WM: Yes. With a vengeance. And I think it hit its high point probably between the wars. I also think that, from the '60s on, we began to see some very strong reactions against it all with part of the youth movement just turning off and turning away from anything to do with the fine arts.

JAM: Also, it's possible that the segregation between the worlds of classical and jazz can be traced to some of the origins of jazz; you know, in the brothels, "the other side of the musical tracks." There's almost a built-in disdain from some classical musicians because of all that.

WM: Exactly.

JAM: The kind of prejudice I saw in my classical days in college seemed to come from the thinking that jazz musicians "couldn't read;" that they didn't have the formal training or the technical skills of their classical counterparts.

WM: Sure. But, you see, I know from my own meager attempts at playing jazz how complicated it is. They (classical and jazz) are both infinitely complicated and infinitely deep. And I know very few people who are equally adept at both. Not because the two are incompatible, but just that you'd need two lifetimes! To be a really great jazz player you've got to be on top of eight jillion tunes, you have to be on top of so many styles, you have to be a master of your instrument, and on and on.

JAM: Wynton Marsalis has emerged in recent years as an acclaimed virtuoso in both fields, as we all know. But that's quite a rarity, isn't it.

WM: Well, that's an interesting thing. Because when you talk to classical musicians, they say "boy, that Wynton's a great jazz player." And what do the jazz musicians say?

JAM: "I'd rather listen to him play classical..."

WM: Interesting. When Wynton plays classical, it's clean as a whistle. But it doesn't move me. And if jazz musicians feel the same way about Mr. Marsalis' jazz side, it may very well be a comment on how he plays music, period. You know, like someone who plays up and down and just knocks the spots off of it, but... (pauses)

I do think that any great musician has a unique voice. Doesn't matter what instrument they play, or if they sing, or what style. You'll still hear their voice. A case in point obviously would be Louie Armstrong. Or even Leonard Bernstein, who, even as a conductor, brought a personal voice to his conducting, his composing, even his talks. But before we leave Wynton, let it be said that, above anything else, the man is phenomenally talented. For his music and on his instrument. And that's leaving aside the question of whether you love the kind of music he makes either in classical or in jazz. There's no doubt about the fact that the dude has the stuff.

JAM: As long as we're talking about jazz and classical from an instrumentalist's perspective, talk some more about the two in terms of the technical requirements of the performer.

WM: Well, like I mentioned before, the jazz musician has so many things to contend with. Most of the great jazz players I've known not only have a mastery of their instrument, which is a must, but they know of all the other jazz players and singers; they've studied all the recordings by all the great soloists, the great big bands. That's all very necessary. The ideal jazz player must be able to change keys at a moment's notice... play a different tune in a different key with a singer or another player or whatever. And now, the requirements (for a jazz musician) have become even more challenging. Used to be that New Orleans players at the beginning of the century played their style, be-boppers played their style... A young player now has to play all of those styles, plus he must be pretty good at Latin, doesn't hurt if he has some notion of what's going on in rap, New Age, straight eighths, swing eighths... Today you have to know all of these different styles. It's a lot like science. There's a lot more to know now in the year 2000 than there was in 1900. In both science and jazz.

And I would add that almost everything I'm saying about jazz would apply to classical music as well. You have to be a master of your instrument; and you have to have a very wide knowledge of the repertoire which, in classical music, is vast. The best classical players not only know the repertoire for their instrument, but they have a scope or a connection to the music that goes back four or five hundred years. So when you're playing the music of Brahms, for example, you not only know about the Fourth Symphony, if that's what you're studying, you also know the overtures, the other three symphonies, the violin concerto, the piano concerti. And then you also know how it all came from Schumann, and how it's different from Chopin or Listz who were all around at kind of the same time.

JAM: So there's common ground in that, regardless of which you pursue -- classical or jazz -- you still have to deal with history, lineage, "where it all came from"...

WM: Absolutely.

JAM: How do you feel about institutions of higher learning, like Berklee, North Texas, et al, that have entire curricula, along side of traditional classical studies, devoted to the study of jazz? There are those who think jazz can't be taught, but learned "on the stand." Others say this kind of exposure can only help.

WM: I think there might be two questions there. One would be "is jazz worthy of study?" And I don't mean the actual playing of jazz. Is it worthy of study like, say, the history of finance is worthy of study? Most people would say they'd be bored to tears by it (finance) but are still glad there are people who are studying it. Maybe they'll figure out how to do things better so widows and orphans won't starve. Even if it takes someone like Charles Ives to come along and create the insurance policies that keep them going. ...Hmmm, I like the connection there! (laughs)

But what I'm saying is that, in jazz studies, you can get to a lot of people who don't play or can't play but are interested, and you can use that as a kind of window or lens to look at societal change. The civil rights movements, the many kinds of people in America -- yellow people, brown people from south of the border. Green people from outer space! All I can see from (this influx of new people) is that we've gotten better. And there's no clearer example than in the music. The music keeps getting better. Black music comes in contact with Irish songs, German marches and church music... and you've got jazz! Creole, Spanish, salsa... Every time a new, important element is added to "the melting pot" (the music) gets better. And for something like "jazz studies," I think I would expand it and make it not only jazz, but have courses in rural music, courses in American secular music, how religious music interacts with popular music. And to that fantastic academic discipline, I would add the study of jazz. Maybe even place it on top.
So, that's one issue. But now, the other one dealing with what you could call "jazz conservatories" like Berklee and North Texas... I haven't gone through those programs, so I can't speak first hand. But I do see a huge number of great jazz players who did go through them, at least for a while. We just recorded a show in St. Paul with Art Farmer and his quartet, and two of the kids in that quartet -- and they are kids! -- are (drummer) Marvin "Smitty" Smith and (pianist) Geoff Keezer. And they both went to Berklee.

JAM: A new subject. I've always wondered why there are so few improvising jazz musicians who play oboe, bassoon and French horn. And for that matter violin, viola and cello.

WM: I can think of a time when there were more tuba players (playing in jazz settings) than there were actual bass players. I mean, it took a whole generation of great bass players before people finally started saying, "Oh, I get it." There surely was a time when the vibraphone was in existence, but before Lionel Hampton said, "Hey, watch what I can do." And then Milt Jackson said, "Hey, that was cool Hamp, but watch what I can do." And then Gary Burton said, "Hey man, check this out." So the vibraphone is a really good example of an certain instrument gaining in popularity in the jazz world.

My guess is that the violin is still looking for that kind of thing, although there certainly have been some great jazz violinists. But you know, the kind of training most classical violinists get is not amenable to the sound of jazz. It would be like having someone who is a great Shakespearean actor trying to do a rap record! The articulation would be spectacular, you'd get each and every word, but to make it work, the person would have to change his or her whole mode of what it's all about. Almost like two completely different personalities.

But back to your question about oboes and bassoons and all. Look at the number of oboes and bassoons available to young black kids... or any young kids that are studying music today. Most of the kids who play those instruments are living in the suburbs and getting good lessons with symphony guys and, they're not learning about jazz as beginners.

JAM: I had a teacher in college who was very well schooled in both classical music and jazz and he always maintained that using certain orchestral instruments in a jazz context requires a kind of "compromise" for our ears; ears that are conditioned to hear music a certain way.

WM: Yeah, but isn't it interesting that we are very happy to accept jazz played on a B-3 and much less so on a huge pipe organ. Like I was saying before, if the right player came along and said, "Hey, listen to what I can do on this pipe organ..." I don't think there's a bar to any instrument in jazz. Penny whistle. Whatever. Today people may be saying, "I never thought about viola d'amore in jazz;" but fifty years from now, maybe everybody will be doing it! No matter what the instrument, something interesting can always happen if you have the passion and the gift. All it takes is one guy who comes along and says, "check this out!" and really makes a statement. Then everybody's playing jazz on viola d'amore. Someday people will be saying, "I can't believe they weren't using viola d'amore back in 1993!"

JAM: One more question. It seems that as the monumental figures in jazz history gradually die off -- and, of course, that is inevitable -- there may not be younger musicians coming up through the ranks who are going to fill such large shoes. You know, in historical terms; players that, fifty or a hundred years from now will also have chapters written about them in the jazz history books. Any thoughts on that?

WM: I think the hardest thing of all is to assess the great musicians and composers of your own time. And it's endlessly intriguing to conjure on this. But I don't think that you can ever come up with a very good answer. Dave Card, a tenor player in Minneapolis I love, was on my show once with Flim & The BBs. He said, "Look, music is like a tree. And the trunk of the tree just keeps growing. Now, Impressionism is just one beautiful branch, just like swing and be-bop are branches. And maybe Debussy and Ravel grew that branch out as far it would go. You may have some beautiful leaves growing on that branch, but you're probably not going to have another tree growing on it." So, I think where we are now with music in general is that the tree's still growing and the tree is healthy, and I think the tree has gone through some great stuff. But the various branches are less well defined. There are a lot of branches now. And someday, after a period of time, when we look at the whole forest, we'll be able to say, "Oh, so that was the main tree!" There's so much going on right now, we can't see the trees for the branches! These are very fertile and exciting times, indeed!


RETURN TO DECEMBER/JANUARY 1994 MAIN INDEX

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