Jay Somerset: In the liner notes to CCMC's Decisive Moments, Michael Snow describes the band's music as "Hot Real-Time Electro-Acoustic Composition." Is that what improvising is, real-time composition?
Paul Dutton: No. Improvising is not composition. Free improvisation is about something forming at the time, in the moment. It has nothing to do with composition, real-time or otherwise [...] and I make no apology about the fact that I'm not composing. [...] Steve Lacey once observed [...] that the difference between composition and improvisation is that in composition you have all the time you need to decide what to say in fifteen seconds, but in improvisation, you have fifteen seconds.
(musicworks #99, Winter 2007, pp. 34-35)
"Improvising is not composition" is what really got me, for two reasons mainly. Firstly, I've always had an interest in semantics and word choice, no doubt fostered by my dad the editor, and certainly encouraged by my brother's involvement in linguistics. I think anyone reading that line should be asking themselves "are improvisation and composition different?"
And regardless of my interest in semantics, I believed that improvisation and composition were part of a greater whole. So this really got me thinking.
I already knew what I thought and why, but I'm curious by nature and want to know how other people form opinions, particularly if they differ from mine. Even when people have the same ideas as me, I'm interested in knowing how they came up with them because they usually did not use the same thought process as I did. With curiosity eating away at me, I decided to hunt down Mr. Dutton and get the answers straight from the source.
To give you perspective on how I entered this situation, let me provide my thoughts on improvisation versus composition.
In music, composition is the most important thing to me. At least, it interests me the most. If I were to dissect composition its two base elements would be Emotion and Creation, each of which comprises several sub-categories. I think for Glenn Gould--one of my musical idols--creation was key, and was the foundation of his philosophy of composer-performers. He wasn't satisfied with playing music; he had to compose the notes that were already written. I whole-heartedly agree. Musicians aren't reproducers or imitators; we are creators.
Everything I do in music I relate back to the composer/creator part of my brain.
I will be careful with my word choice. I don't want to say that improvising and composing are fundamentally different because I don't think they are. But I do recognise that they have their differences, and each have distinct functions and appropriate times to be used. But I do believe they are tied to the act of creation, as well as what we are feeling. Generally with improvisation it is in the moment, and while the same can be true of composition, often it is more likely a recollection of emotion, an imagined situation or otherwise. But it is all intertwined. Composing requires some sort of improvisation, though one might say it is a tempered improvisation. Likewise, in improvisation we are composing for the first time--we might never use it again, or we might temper it slightly for subsequent improv.
Just as I discussed in a previous entry about the intertwining of "silence" and "music" so do I see "composition" and "improvisation" lying on a continuum.
Now, for Mr. Dutton's take on improvisation vs. composition.
"You’re right about the common element of creation shared by improvisation and composition. But sharing a common element doesn’t constitute being identical. Men and women are both human, but still different from each other. Conversation and writing are both language functions but they’re very different operations. And that’s the best analogy I can think of for the difference between musical improvisation and musical composition."
A valid point. In some ways we are almost arguing the same point. I'm creating a sense of commonality between two different entities, whereas he appears to be drawing a line of distinction between sub-sets.
"What you read in that Musicworks issue was a transcription of me talking, making it up as I go along, however much I might have been thinking ahead as I did that, and however much I maybe changed in my mind some things that I was about to say, and said something different instead. What you’re getting here is me writing, looking at what I’ve put down, going back and clarifying or catching errors in thought and expression, or maybe completely changing my mind. And, of course, both operations (talking and writing; improvising and composing) share more than just the broad general category that comprises them, employing a variety of identical activities and devices as they go about pursuing they’re different methods towards ends that are, in varying degrees, different or similar."
He apparently shares my interest in word choice. I really like his comparison of talking/writing and improvisation/composition.
I admit, however, that sometimes musicians get caught up in verbiage and overcomplicate with labels and categorisations. At best, I believe it to be a necessary evil. But I think it is helpful for a musician to be able to make conscious decisions about terminology, and what it means to him or her because in some ways that gives her a better idea of how she perceives music. Even if you make use of standard terminology and standard definitions, knowing why you use them I think reveals some of your personality and views on music. You can make better sense of things too: "I don't normally like X but for some reason I like y, which is a subset of X." If you can create distinctions in your own mind, not only will it make sense to you, but then you can verbalise your thoughts. "I find y contains elements of Z, something I really like," or even, "Why do people think y is a subset of X? I don't think it fits in with it at all!"
Dutton, ever vigilant, called me out when I asked if our conversation could be quoted.
"Well, Simon, first of all -- and call me picky, but I consider this to be a vitally important distinction -- we didn’t have a conversation (a spoken exchange); we had a correspondence (a written exchange). I detailed the difference between the two when I first wrote back to you. I’m considered pedantic for pointing out this kind of thing, but I consider it equally delusional to think that writing is talking as to think that talking is writing."
He speaks the truth. I should have caught that one before it flew off into cyberspace. At least I know he was paying attention!
Thanks to Paul Dutton for letting me bounce my ideas off him, and sharing his in return.
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