Remembering Benny Carter at the Eastman School of Music, 1996

     I was a first-year arranging student in the masters program at Eastman in the spring of 1996.  Fred Sturm, my mentor and the head of the program at the time, arranged for Benny to do a short residency and Fred had asked him to send some charts.  I will never forget when Fred showed me the old trunk that Benny sent with his original, hand-written parts!  They were priceless manuscripts, and Benny just sent them to us.

I also remember that in the first rehearsal, Benny teared up after hearing us play and  he said something like, and this is a paraphrase from my memory, "I haven't heard this music live since we first played it in 1940.  I can't believe that you young guys are even interested in it, never mind that you sound just like the original."  I don't think that any of us ever got over that moment.  I get goosebumps just thinking about it.

I also remember that Benny's alto sound filled the Eastman Theatre.  It was huge and warm.  Listening back to his recordings from the 1920s, his style hadn't really changed, but it was an education to be in the room with a human time machine.  He also apologized for not being able to play the trumpet anymore, but his chops were gone.  Benny was 89 years old at this time!!!

As a person, he was very generous and kind.  I will never forget how warmly he greeted us.  I don't think he looked at the clock once.  Benny Carter was charming, funny,  and self-effacing, so much so that you might forget that, along with Johnny Hodges, he literally invented the jazz alto saxophone.  (He remarked that he wanted to play C-melody like Trumbauer, but he could only afford an alto, so that was it!)

Below are my notes from Benny's masterclass, where he was assisted by his biographer, Ed Berger.  When Benny couldn't remember an answer, Ed would answer for him and Benny would say, "That's right!  How do you remember more about my life than I do?"  It was simply unforgettable and I'm so happy that I found these notes.

This article originally appeared in Saxophone Journal, March/April 2013.  Volume 37, No. 4

 

Creating Synthetic Bop Scales

 

            Improvisers are presented with the interesting challenge of figuring out “what to play.”  Beyond the most basic chord/scale theory, there is a tremendous amount of flexibility for note choices, and you are “the decider.”  In this issue, we will look at some ways of finding interesting linear additions to the most familiar of sources: the major scale.  Hopefully, readers are already familiar with the bop seventh scale (containing both the major and the flatted seventh).  This scale is a mode of the major bop scale, which utilizes the raised fourth degree as a chromatic passing tone between steps four and five.  The following scales are all variations of the major scale, but with chromatic passing tones in different places.  For lack of a better label, I call these synthetic bop scales.

 

For reference, example 1 shows the major bop scale in G major, commonly used on tonic chords – for the rest of this article, all scales should be considered relative to a G major chord.  It is worth noticing that adding a pitch to a traditional, 7-note diatonic scale results in an even number of notes.  This means that we can span the octave in eighth notes, starting and ending on downbeats (or upbeats, if we choose).  Symmetrical phrasing, if desired, is easily achieved with this arrangement of notes.

 

The traditional version of the bop scale is found throughout the repertoire, but the concept of adding a passing tone to a basic set of pitches is actually at the core of the bebop tradition.  In example 2, the passing tone is in a different place, connecting the second and third degrees of the major scale.  This new scale has a bluesy sound, especially if we emphasize the chromatic note.  Example 3 moves the passing tone upward, bridging the fifth and sixth.  This scale has a brighter, or perhaps a more neutral sound than example 2.  Adjectives are highly subjective in this context, so I encourage you to play the scales for yourself and to find your own way of describing the sound.  Example 4 crushes the passing tone down to the sharp one.  This is a particularly dissonant sounding scale, encroaching on the tonic note.  This is a great choice for creating tension!

 

There is no reason to strictly adhere to one scale.  Example 5 ascends with one scale, and descends with another.  Naturally, it would also be possible to mix and match in whatever order you might choose, or to use chromaticism randomly, depending upon the musical situation.  At a certain point, the randomness would cease to suggest scales, at least from the perspective of the listener.  I find myself frequently aiming for a target and improvising the appropriate number of passing tones to get the right resolution.  This takes practice, and the fundamentals of that level of improvisation are contained in a preliminary mastery of the scales themselves.  At its best, this kind of improvising has an exciting, edge-of-your-seat kind of sound.

 

Another compelling property of this chromaticism is the potential for fitting more notes into a relatively narrow range than a diatonic scale will allow.  For that specific reason, many trumpet players are exceptionally good at improvising these kinds of snaking lines, since range, and conservation of chops are more of an issue for them.  Taken to the extreme, one could even use microtones to squeeze in even more notes into a small space.  Example 6 places a quarter-step passing tone between the major seventh and the root  (finger an F# in the normal way, and add the side F# key, raising the pitch an extra quarter-step).  This is very dissonant, creating an almost anxious quality to the sound.  I use a variety of these microtonal scales, which I will present in a future column.  For the interested student, there are excellent quarter-tone fingering charts in the books of Londeix and Ronald Caravan.

 

Back in the realm of more conventional bebop technique, example 7 provides three phrase endings that I associate with Charlie Parker, all based on the previous examples.  Bird was the master of executing long, flowing lines that always managed to neatly punctuate with licks that have become the wonderful clichés of the bop language.  Examples 8 and 9 show two sample lines, using elements from the previous examples, again to be played over a G Major chord.  For contrast, the former is very scalar, spanning well over an octave, while the latter is very tightly compressed, for increased tension over a smaller range.

 

A truly great improviser gives the audience the feeling that they are hearing a unique voice.  Sound is obviously the most important musical element, and the core of musical identity, but there are many players that are deeply associated with the way that they play the changes.  Joe Henderson is a great example of both types of uniqueness, with his dry, compact tone and his highly individual (and virtuosic) arpeggiations.  As you explore the possibilities, pay careful attention to the bits of language that sound good to you, and then work those musical bits and pieces into your approach with the highest degree of mastery possible.  You will end up with more ways to play the changes, but you will also build a vocabulary that helps to define your overall sound.  Practice well!  §