Monday, 21 August 2017

That Negative Harmony Talk Unravelled

Photo: Tatiana Gorilovsky (Peter King's 75th Birthday, 606 Club, 2015)

   I was delighted that my lecture on Negative Harmony in France a couple of weeks ago drew a great deal of interest, many probing questions and a not a little controversy. The subject came up because a number of my students, enthused by Jacob Collier, had asked me about Negative Harmony, so I thought I ought to get up to speed with the kids! In order to find a way to work with this system, I set two musical criteria: (i) The chords could always be tweaked, extended or inverted, just as regular jazz chords would be in a reharmonisation. (ii) The goal would be to always to create musically satisfying sounds rather than awkward chords in order to be true to the 'rules'.

   Negative Harmony is offers a darker, more thoughtful, minor or Subdominant alternative to the extravert, bright Tonic-Dominant relationships of classical music. The main problem with Negative Harmony is that it is supposed to be derived by an reversing polarities inherent in the natural harmonic overtone series, while at the same time applying mathematical ideas using equal temperament, which is an artificial creation. The idea of an upside-down 'undertone' series below the tonic, which cannot be heard, is pure hokum. This does not mean that it is not possible to use some of the ideas from Negative Harmony to find new sounds and make interesting music.

   The idea of a pull between the the root and the fifth, the first natural harmonic that produces a different note, is fundamental to a lot of music theory. The first melody ever blown on an animal horn (in Greenland allegedly) would have been a fifth, and we are hard-wired to recognise the primacy of this interval. Negative Harmony creator Ernst Levi used 19th century analyst Hugo Riemann's reversed major triad (C major: C-E-G becomes C minor: G-Eb-C, built from the G downwards using the same intervals) and built a scale of triads coming downwards from the Dominant G, starting with G-Eb-C and using the same intervals as the regular major scale. This produces 'Negative C major', a Phrygian scale of G, with chord I being Cm and chord V being Fm or Fm6 if the chord is extended down to include the 7th. Moving from Fm6 to Cm creates a minor Plagal cadence in place of the regular Perfect one, and this is one of the characteristic sounds of Negative harmony. Some theorists argue about whether the F in the Fm6 should be the bass note, or whether the chord is Dm7b5. The problem here is that we are used to hearing the lowest note as the bass note, not the top note as the generating root. Anyone familiar with Bill Evans however will be aware of the concept of rootless voicings - the chord could be Fm6, Dm7b5 or even Bb9 to him. As jazz musicians therefore, we need not be overly concerned about this, nor bound to the rules at the expense of good sounds. II-V-I in Negative C could therefore be Gm7 to Dm7b5 to Ab major7, or even Eb major7 to Bb9 to Fm9 if all the chords are extended (down) to the 9ths.

   In applying this reverse, or 'reciprocal' principle to jazz standard harmony, all sorts of fascinating possibilities are occur. One of the most interesting questions concerns polarity. For example: is the first chord of an F blues a tonic chord, (F minor in Negative) or, as an F7, does it belong to its destination key in bar 5: Negative Bb major, making it a Cm7b5? The end of the blues sequence would have to have a II-V heading towards Negative F in any case. Another question is, should the Bb chord be a Cm, chord IV of Negative F, or should the harmony move in the opposite direction, to Negative C major? In a more complex jazz standard with many changes of key, these relationships and choices become more and more interesting.

This interpretation of an F blues (below) supposes that the first chord is a tonic chord, a 6th/9th in fact, as it was often played during the 30s and 40s. With all the intervals inverted, this gives a Bb7sus chord as the the first chord. In bar 4, when the chord becomes F7 for the modulation, the chord is Dm7b5, or Bb9 here, which is Chord V in Negative C major, since we are modulating in the reverse direction to a normal blues. From bar 8 we have a simple Negative Harmony VI-II-V-I progression to complete the structure.

This is not really that interesting as a chord progression, but it does serve to demonstrate the principles involved. The idea of slipping down from the Bb7 onto the F7 conveys the relaxing Plagal feeling of Negative Harmony. At the end of the sequence the root movement Db-Abmj7-Eb-Bb again shows the negative 4ths cycle.

In a future post I am going to present a Negative Harmony interpretation of one of the most complex and tonally interesting jazz standards, Victor Young's Stella by Starlight.

Wednesday, 26 July 2017

Signature Custom Sax Masterclass at

   Here is a video from my Signature Custom masterclass at London, August 2016. Laurence Cottle, Mark Fletcher and myself play Donna Lee, with the Signature Custom alto, followed by Giant Steps on the tenor with the Donna Lee contrafact melody, and the sax solo through all twelve keys. Below the video link is a transcription of my alto solo on Donna Lee. I have added a few theory notes here and there, although I am playing mostly Closed System stuff which 'any fule' should 'kno'. Many thanks to Trevor James saxes and for hosting the event, and the guys from Fletch's Brew for their great playing! Check out the Ronnie Scott's Late Show listings for our next appearance at the club!

Wednesday, 24 June 2015

El Pinguino - new solo ideas for 2015

606 Club with Geoff Gascoyne and Mark Fletcher April 2015

As a foretaste of the 2015 Dordogne Jazz Summer School, taking place at Monteton in late July and August, I thought I would post a preview of an upcoming album featuring myself and some of the other tutors on the course.

Andrea Vicari's February session was the first time I had recorded a serious jazz album for two years, after a period of self-analysis and restructuring. I was pretty ring-rusty here but some of the new style was beginning to come through. Andrea, Dorian Lockett and Nic France gave me a superb groove, so I could just surf on or bounce off the rhythmic energy.

In this solo I was keen to bust out of the straitjacket of the two-chord flamenco vamp. The Spanish Phrygian, changed into a Hungarian rather than Harmonic Minor, was the starting point, containing the A and the Bb chords in one. Soon the stream-of-consciousness kicked in and I freely mixed the Hungarian with 23rd Chord patterns, Messaien Mode 3 Triple-Tonics, p2c2e atonality and some conventional Giant Steps subs, Augmented Scale, false fingerings and so on. I am quite pleased with some of it!

The solo is on SoundCloud here:

Saturday, 25 October 2014

Warne Marsh - Marshmallow 1949


Following on from my analysis of Lee Konitz's tune 'Ice Cream Konitz', here is a look at Warne Marsh's 'Marshmallow':

Tenor saxophonist Warne Marsh is the least known of the triumvirate he forms with Lennie Tristano and Lee Konitz. His compositions share many of the techniques of his compatriots, but show that he clearly has his own style. Marsh's astonishing take on Cherokee 'Marshmallow' was written in 1949 when he was 22 years old. The fact that he named it after himself suggests that it may have been a personal landmark and it is a very bold statement. As usual with Cherokee contrafacts, Marshmallow is played at breakneck speed (cf. Stan Getz - 'Parker 51' and George Coleman - 'Apache Dance'). The melody soars to altissimo Ab and even B at high speed, making this easily the most virtuosic saxophone head of the 1940s and one of the most technically difficult of all time. Lee Konitz and Warne Marsh, two 22-year-olds at the top of their game, fly through the melody, making it sound very easy. The chains of perfect 4ths and crochet triplets give the piece a modernistic, other-worldly sound. Some of it sounds rather passé to our ears (the theme from Star Trek springs to mind immediately), but it was written in 1949, when people were fascinated with the new atomic age, 'B' Science Fiction movies ('King of the Rocket Men'…) were popular, and Orwell's 1984 was published. For 1949 listeners this must have sounded like jazz from another planet. On a more serious level, if the rhythmic framework of Marshmallow were played on a drum kit, with all its displacements and groupings, it could be a drum solo worthy of a Frank Zappa piece. Some of the techniques in the piece draw parallels with 20th century classical music and anticipate the post-modern jazz of the 70s and 80s.

Contrasting with the Lee Konitz piece previously analysed in this blog (Ice Cream Konitz), Warne Marsh does not make the same use of space, preferring more of a sense of urgency with long, winding lines in the bridge section. He uses a greater variety of superimposed triads and isorhythmic groupings and some very daring and original 'out-of-key' melodic effects and rhythmic displacements. Ice Cream Konitz is an early Konitz piece and a simple example however. Marsh's composition does not have an intimate relationship with the melody of Cherokee, as Konitz's piece does with Perdido, but Marsh achieves unity throughout the recording by extensive use of his compositional material in his improvised solo. In this he is moving towards pure improvisation rather than stylistic jazz playing.

16 techniques used by Warne Marsh in Marshmallow:

1) Harmony interpreted through superimposed triads: (expressed in C) D/C E/C A/C B/C F#/C (Bb/Cm)

2) Expression of the chords melodically using chains of 4ths (Wagner 'Tristan', Schoenberg Chamber Symphony, Charles Ives etc.)

3) Odd groupings over 4/4 time - 3,5,6 and 7 beat rhythmic and melodic patterns (1970s Chick Corea, Michael Brecker etc.)

4) 'Bending the barlines' - delayed or early resolutions and beginnings of phrases (Tristano, Konitz, Keith Jarrett)

5) Very long, flowing lines through the changes (Bridge section generally)

6) Quaver lines stretched and contracted using triplets, crochets, crochet triplets and crochet quintuplets (in the A sections)

7) Tritone substitution for 7th chords (conventional bebop)

8) Diminished (Octatonic) Scale for seventh chords (conventional bebop)

**9) Use of C# major scale over B major 7(#11) -  D#m6 or G#13
This could be explained as fully modulating into the key implied by the Lydian (C# triad) and is revolutionary in that the root is omitted in the scale (bitonality - cf. Ravel, Bartok)

**10) Over A major 7 in the bridge: an implied Ebm-Ab7-Db substitute progression.
This is also very adventurous and could be:
(i) a minor 3rd transposition of the regular II-V pattern, implying some kind of '4-tonic' theory (Diminished axis)
(ii) a kind of anticipatory 'side-slip', the Db approaching the D7 (Tristano)
(iii) An A major 7#5 with the melody line actually modulating to the key implied by the Db triad superimposition (genuine bitonality - Bartok, Stravinsky)

11) Extreme altissimo - high G# and B (at speed!) during the bridge (nobody else comes close - for a written melody - until Michael Brecker circa 1980)

12) Great technical dexterity and fluency, even in the fourth register (Coltrane, Brecker)

13) Displacing the last 16 recapitulation one beat later - placing crochet triplets across the barlines (Tristano)

14) Chromatic alterations to the major chord II (unusual for a secondary dominant, since it resolves passively onto a minor chord II)

15) Moving between different 'flavours' of a seventh chord within a single phrase (Michael Brecker)

16) Extensive use of the compositional material during the improvised solo for greater unity.

Sunday, 24 August 2014

The subject of my masterclass at the Dordogne Jazz Summer School this year was the music of Lennie Tristano, Warne Marsh and Lee Konitz from the 1940s and 50s. We spent a day working on their pieces and having fun with their way-out improvisation techniques.

This is one of the great tunes we covered, with a fuller analysis than I was able to give in my short talk - Lee Konitz's 1950 take on Perdido:

Ice Cream Konitz

Lennie Tristano, Warne Marsh and Lee Konitz, three peas in a pod in the late 40s and 50s, used to make light of their compositions by naming them after themselves and each other. Lennie's Pennies, Lennie-Bird, Marshmallow, Subconscious-Lee and Friendlee to name but a few. This was a cute method of self-publicity but it also betrayed the self-critical, obsessive nature of the group, one reason why they did not perform and record prolifically, and still remain unjustly obscure to some jazz lovers.

Ice Cream Konitz (1950) has a suitably throwaway title although it is an incredibly well thought-out composition. Following the example of Charlie Parker, a friend and acknowledged hero of Lee Konitz, the tune is a contrafact of a familiar tune, Duke Ellington's hit, Perdido.

The opening motif is single melody implying two-part writing. The lower part is a chromatic idea which recalls Ellington's backing line, used by Parker and Gillespie as the theme in their Massey Hall version. The upper part is a three-note grouping, similar to the Perdido tune but backwards. The combination of the two ideas produces a semitone plus an upward leap of a seventh, the overall shape very similar to bar 6, the hook line, of the original Perdido melody. This idea is developed rhythmically and melodically during the first four bars. The crochet triplet development in bar 2 could be a reference to the melodic character of the  middle eight melody of Perdido. The fourth appearance of the seventh leap in bar 4 is ornamented using a technique called 'melodic filling-in' to become a flat 9th arpeggio. The second motif in bar 5 uses the opening semitone idea again, with a rising scale added before the rising arpeggio idea again. Here Konitz uses a D major triad over the F7, a relatively new sound for that time. Bar 7 has the melodic shape from bar 5 in inversion and displaced a quaver early, two compositional techniques more common to contemporary classical music than jazz. This leads to a rising arpeggio and a three-beat sequential pattern, the first of three odd-number patterns in the piece. The use of three, five, six and seven beat groupings over 4/4 was a technique passed on from Lennie Tristano to his acolytes and quite revolutionary for jazz in the 1940s and 50s. In bar 10 the idea from bar 7 is used again. This time the rising arpeggio is a C major triad over a Bb major 7th chord, another new sound for the time. From bar 10 there is a six-beat rhythmic pattern repeated, the second example of an unusual grouping. 

Bar 13 begins with a tone followed by a minor third. We could identify this as the 'Perdido' motif. This is followed by another seventh leap, downwards this time, continuing the principle of constant variation and development, the whole shape being almost the opening phrase backwards. Bar 14 has the same Perdido fragment a tritone away, the tritone substitution of the bebop period but also anticipating the altered pentatonic approach used from the 1960s onwards. This resolves onto a Bb major7#11 arpeggio but a beat early, an example of what Tristano-ites describe as 'bending the barlines', the natural ebb and flow of the melody, unhindered by the time signature.

The bridge starts with the Perdido motif again, elongated, followed by an astonishing two completely empty bars. The second half of the middle eight also has a yawning empty space. The bridge of a 32-bar tune of this type is the area of greatest harmonic tension. If we compare two of Charlie Parker's best known tunes with the same middle eight, Anthropology and Moose The Mooche, there is a lot of activity in the bridge, spring-boarding into the last eight. In Ice Cream Konitz the composer creates perhaps even more tension and expectation with the use of silence. Amazingly the head and two choruses of improvisation on the recording contain 105 silent beats in total - 3/4 of a chorus of silence out of three!

Konitz's last eight rounds the tune off with an artfully reworked version of the opening. This can be seen as a loose inversion or retrograde of the original theme, with the upper of the two parts rising, followed by seventh leaps downwards this time. The crochet triplet is still there, and the semitone has become three notes, up and down. This creates two five-beat phrases, the third example of an non-duple rhythmic grouping in the piece. 

Ice Cream Konitz is one of the simpler of the contrafact compositions by Lee Konitz, but is a miniature masterpiece, reworking actual melodic material from Perdido, as well as the chord sequence, and showcasing an arsenal of modernistic compositional techniques along the way.

Summary of techniques used:

1) Use of the chord sequence and the melodic material of the original to fashion the contrafact.
2) Use of motifs and intervals in transposition, inversion and retrograde to develop the melody (Schoenberg, Webern)
3) Use of melodic filling-in and chain-association to transform one ideas into the next idea. (Ornette Coleman)
4) Use of superimposed triads - D/F and C/Bb (Others - B/C and E/C used in other pieces - see also Lennie Tristano, Warne Marsh)
5) Use of 3,5 and 6 note isorhythmic groupings against 4/4 (7 used in other pieces - Tristano, Marsh)
6) Use of the tritone pentatonic/substitution (McCoy Tyner)
7) Suspension, expansion, contraction, displacement - 'bending the barlines' (Tristano, Marsh)
8) Use of silence to balance expectation and release (John Cage)

Click on the image for an annotated leadsheet:

Thursday, 15 July 2010

Late 70s Kids!

The Lockett Brothers' first musical venture: "The Hot Club Of Neasden" a Dixieland outfit, active on the Isle Of Wight in the 1970s. Left to right: Dorian Lockett: cello; Phil Collins: E flat bass euphonium; Steve Martch: trombone; Neil McPherson: alto saxophone; Gerard Trevett: trumpet; Mornington Lockett: clarinet; Martin "Chirpy" Lewis: trombone; Dave "Buddy" Chivers: drums; Gary Lee: banjo; Andy Rayner: piano; "Richie" Richardson: double bass. We think this was about 1977. Photo taken to celebrate Richie's retirement as school head caretaker. A classic, never-to-be-repeated lineup!

Sunday, 11 July 2010

20s Kids!!

My Dad: Mornington Lockett snr. aged 4, sister Madeline and cousin Norman Simpson circa 1928, The Borough, London