Playing music in a group is different from playing alone, more so than many people realize. I have often had the experience of learning a piece of music as a solo, developing my interpretation, having it perfected. When I tried to play it ,with a group - a jazz ensemble, for instance - I had to largely relearn the music. The arrangement I had developed to play by myself didn't work with the group.
As a soloist, you learn music that is designed for a single musician. You learn an arrangement that has all the parts together in one part. The music is simplified, though the part you play is more complex than any of the single elements of the piece.
In a group, the reverse is true. The parts are distributed among several musicians so that, while the parts are simpler, the music produced by putting them together is more complex. Instead of concentrating on a difficult part, you are coordinating one simple part with simple parts played by other group members. This requires a different attitude towards the music. No matter how good you are at playing your instrument, you cannot play well in a group if you are not willing to be sensitive to the needs of the music and to compromise your own personal excellence for that of the group.
There are musicians who are unwilling to make this compromise. Many of these refuse to play in groups at all. Others do anyway, never stopping to examine why the music doesn't come together, or what they can do to improve upon it.
The most effective parts in ensemble arrangements are often simple and repetitive. If you are a technically proficient player, these parts can be frustrating, leaving you no opportunity to demonstrate your skill. But, if you realize the importance of the part in the musical texture, it becomes obvious that playing more notes adds nothing to the music.
Nothing is worse in an ensemble than a show-off. The opportunities for personal expression are more restricted, than in solo playing and require subtlety and discretion in order not to distract from the music. Someone who needs to flaunt their talent and overshadow the rest of the group is missing an important part of the music. Technique should always serve the music, not the other way around. A good player can extract more meaning from a few notes than a show-off can from a flurry of rapid phrases, and a well-played combination of two such parts will be better received and more enjoyable to play than two technically brilliant parts played by musicians who do not communicate well.
Remember that it is the ego that says "this is boring". Using meditation techniques can help you learn ensemble playing techniques by quieting the demands of the ego for attention.
Another way meditation helps is by making you aware of the connections
between yourself and the other musicians. Once you're aware of
these connections, communication becomes easier.
Group interpretation is a hard thing to nail down. Even knowing the styles of all the musicians involved, and knowing how they would each play the music on their own, it is nearly impossible to predict how they will combine in a group. The music that happens is a reflection of the interaction between the musicians involved. When musicians play together for the first time, surprising things can happen. It's as if you sprayed paint on a spider-web you didn't know was there: suddenly all the complex interconnections between people are thrown into relief by the music they play.
Playing in a group can be a positive experience for the beginner because of the relative simplicity of the parts and the support of the other musicians. Someone who is not yet able to perform solo pieces can still play simple parts and gain pleasure and experience from contributing to the larger musical texture. Playing with other people, particularly with people who are more experienced musicians, is for many people more enjoyable and challenging than practicing alone, and is one of the best ways to improve as a musician. From playing and discussing music with others, I learn things that I can take to other groups or apply to my solo performance. Anybody, even if I didn't like them or connect well with them musically, can give me a new perspective on the music.
Here's an exercise to help sharpen the communication skills you
started to explore in the group clapping exercises. Remember to balance your use of sense input with intuition: learn
to trust yourself to know, when to play.
Because of the direct one-on-one communication possible between two people, duos are potentially the most intimate and creative musical combinations. Often, the performance can be as free in interpretation as a solo, yet with a variety in style and point of view that makes the music more interesting for musicians and audience.
In a duo performance, the tone of the music can be set in different ways. One or the other of the musicians can lead the music, while the other follows. The music can assume an identity of its own and lead both players. This mode can be consistent within a single piece, or can vary throughout, from section to section. These modes of leadership exert a large amount of Influence on the performance. If you try using each mode to play a duet with the same person, you'll see what I mean.
Many duos consist of a soloist and an accompanist. While the soloist ostensibly leads the performance, the accompanist's style has a lot to do with the music that results.
Accompanists have a large responsibility. Though they are largely
anonymous, the position often requires as much musical skill as
the solo spot. The accompanist's job is to follow the soloist
through any musical contortion and make it sound graceful and
flowing as if it were his own interpretation rather than his partner's.
This means relying on many subtle clues that may or may not have
been discussed with the soloist before the performance. Any personal
touches on the part of the accompanist must be unobtrusive so
as not to upstage the person he is supporting. Within these limits,
a skilled accompanist can be extremely creative while still supporting
the soloist.(2)
I believe that the trio is the best possible musical combination. The addition of a third musician doubles the complexity of the music (see chap. 4), making it possible to achieve effects that are impossible in a duo, and that gain very little from larger groups. Yet the trio is still small enough to maintain a sense of intimacy and communication between the individual players.
I see western musical tradition as based on a three-part system of composition, which is best encapsulated in the Baroque idea of thoroughbass or continues in which the primary parts of the music were the melody and the bass line. The middle parts were played by the continuo player, and filled in the chords implied by the melody and bass.
Most pieces of classical, folk, jazz, and pop music can be analyzed
according to this model.(3) The exceptions, which include music
of composers such as Steve Reich and Philip Glass, are largely
based on textural ideas rather than harmonic-melodic structures.
The independence and exposure of parts in duets and trios make them less accessible to beginning musicians who have difficulty holding their own with an autonomous part, but they are good training in self-confidence once a basic level of skill is reached. Orchestras or large choral groups don't provide the same immediate feedback because the individual musicians are subsumed in their sections. Individual contributions don't substantially affect the sound of the ensemble, and so don't encourage confidence and autonomy.
As the size of the group grows beginning with trios, communication between individual musicians becomes more and more fragmented. To keep the group together, it is increasingly important to pay attention to the music, rather than to the other musicians. When the music is approached as an autonomous entity, each musician can make a one-to-one connection to it, thus simplifying the relationships within the group. By listening to the music as it forms, you are letting non-conscious parts of' your mind deal with the technical aspects of coordinating the performance. In the largest groups, a director may assume this role. The director is a single entity to which each of the musicians refer. The problem is that a musician is dependent on visual contact to follow the director. If the musician has to follow written music at the same time, the connection with the director becomes tenuous. Listening to the music, and using it as your director frees the eyes for other tasks.
Groups bigger than three tend to break down into smaller units. In many groups, the lines of demarcation depend on the music being played. In an orchestra, for example, second violins, oboes, and first trumpets could be working as a unit, playing a melody, while the first violins and flutes are playing a counter-melody. Other groups fall into sub-groupings that are relatively consistent. For example, a jazz ensemble will break down into rhythm section and melodic instruments. In many of these situations, musicians relate to each other directly within the subdivisions, while the subdivisions relate to each other as separate units.
If a group does decide to entrust itself to a leader, it needs
to follow consistently to get results. The director largely determines
how the music sounds. The director creates the interpretation
for the entire ensemble of musicians. Obviously, the choice of
director is critical.
For better or worse, musicians have personalities. A group of musicians who communicate well musically may not get along well offstage. In fact, the more intense the musical involvement, the more intense the offstage relationship is likely to be.
The problem again is ego. While it is possible and desirable to set the ego aside while playing, it is not as-likely or desirable for that to happen at other times. Offstage, you are involved in your own life. You have responsibilities and goals of your own that you do not share with the other musicians. Compare this to the music, where you are all sharing and for the moment nothing else is important. Offstage, you get caught up in your own emotions and beliefs. If these conflict with those of the other musicians, you're in for trouble.
This is not a reason to stop playing with these people. Differences between people may cause painful friction in the personal relationship, but it can also help to give contrast and tension to the music. The fact that you collide offstage is an indication that you are willing to express your feelings to those people, willing to communicate. A group of people who cannot communicate offstage will also not communicate onstage.
When you do begin to play, you need to let consciousness of those personal differences slip away. Let your ego quiet so that the Eros-related parts of your psyche are channeling and guiding the music. Let the differences between you and the other player create a meaningful dialogue between your instruments that is uncluttered by any emotional antipathies.
If you are ruled by attachment to or hatred of a particular musician, it can cause you to cut them off, to not relate to them musically, or to focus on them exclusively thereby cutting off the other players. The objectivity you have learned to teach your conscious mind will let you communicate freely with everyone.
If you are involved in a serious musical group whose members want to stay together for an extended time, these personal factors become extremely important. Being in a group is like marriage, except that you are often connected with more than one person. It is helpful if you share at least one common goal.
Leadership is an important and controversial subject in a musical group. Who decides when to hold rehearsals? Who books gigs? Who decides on the arrangement and interpretation of the music? Who chooses the music to play? The leader of the group often draws resentment from the other players. The leader may feel resentment himself. He is doing a large part of the work, making decisions and. representing the group. The leader might want a larger share of the money the group makes, or his name in larger letters on publicity releases. All this causes friction between the members of the group.
I and others have experimented with groups based on democratic
or consensus decision-making. These groups develop similar problems,
although the process often creates more diversity in the choice
of material and the arrangement of the numbers. I believe having
a leader simplifies the group relationship considerably, though
he needs to be sensitive to the needs of the other musicians and
give their ideas equal consideration. Onstage, the leader provides
a focus for audience attention between songs, but while playing
he needs to let himself be an equal partner of the others. A group
leader who is not a show-off is a rare and good thing to find.