AN INTRODUCTION TO “KIND OF BLUE”*

{by Bill Evans}


(So What)


There is a Japanese visual art in which the artist is forced to be spontaneous. He must paint on a thin stretched parchment with a special brush and black water paint in such a way that an unnatural or interrupted stroke will destroy the line or break through the parchment. Erasures or changes are impossible. These artists must practice a particular discipline, that of allowing the idea to express itself in communication with their hands in such a direct way that deliberation cannot interfere. The resulting pictures lack the complex composition and texture of ordinary painting, but it is said that those who see it will find something captured that escapes explanation. This conviction that direct deed is the most meaningful reflection, I believe, has prompted the evolution of the extremely severe and unique disciplines of the jazz or improvising musician.
Group improvisation is a further challenge. Aside from the weighty technical problem of collective coherent thinking, there is the very human, even social need for sympathy from all members to bend for the common result. This most difficult problem, I think, is beautifully met and solved in this recording. As the painter needs his framework of parchment, the improvising musical group needs its framework in time. Miles Davis presents here frameworks which are exquisite in their simplicity and yet contain all that is necessary to stimulate performance with a sure reference to the primary conception.

Miles conceived these settings only hours before the recording dates and arrived with sketches which indicated to the group what was to be played. Therefore, you will hear something close to pure spontaneity in these performances. The group had never played these pieces prior to the recordings and I think without exception the first complete performance of each was a “take”. Although it is not uncommon for a jazz musician to be expected to improvise on new material at a recording session, the character of these pieces represents a particular challenge.

Briefly, the formal character of the five settings are:
“So What” is a simple figure based on 16 measures of one scale, 8 of another and 8 more of the first, following a piano and bass introduction in free rhythmic style. “Freddie Freeloader” is a 12-measure blues form given new personality by effective melodic and rhythmic simplicity. “Blue in Green”** is a 10-measure circular form following a 4-measure introduction, and played by soloists in various augmentation and diminution of time values. “All Blues”** is a 6/812-measure blues form that produces its mood through only a few modal changes and Miles Davis’ free melodic conception. “Flamenco Sketches” (two takes)** is a series of five scales, each to be played as long as the soloist wishes until he has completed the series.

(Freddie Freeloader)

* More than a milestone in jazz, Kind of Blue is a defining moment of twentieth century music, one of those incredibly rare works of art that achieve equal popularity among musicians, critics, and the public at large. The rest of us might tend to agree with Jimmy Cobb, the drummer on the album, who commented of Kind of Blue that it “must have been made in heaven.” Don’t we all enjoy a taste of heaven now and then? (…) Here, for the first time, is Kind of Blue complete, sounding big and rich and true to life and right on key. If you’re going to heaven, might as well go first-class all the way. (From the presentation of the 1997 re-issue of Kind of Blue).

** Played before in this blog.

All compositions by Miles Davis (Trumpet). Featuring: Julian "Cannonball" Adderley (Alto Saxophone, except 'Blue in Green'), Paul Chambers (Bass), James Cobb (Drums), John Coltrane (Tenor Saxophone), Bill Evans (Piano), Wynton Kelly (Piano, 'Freddie Freeloader'). Recorded at Columbia 30th Street Studio, New York City on March 2, 1959 (#1-3) and April 22, 1959 (#4,5,6).

© 1997 Sony Music Entertainment Inc./Columbia.

{by Bill Evans}


(So What)


There is a Japanese visual art in which the artist is forced to be spontaneous. He must paint on a thin stretched parchment with a special brush and black water paint in such a way that an unnatural or interrupted stroke will destroy the line or break through the parchment. Erasures or changes are impossible. These artists must practice a particular discipline, that of allowing the idea to express itself in communication with their hands in such a direct way that deliberation cannot interfere. The resulting pictures lack the complex composition and texture of ordinary painting, but it is said that those who see it will find something captured that escapes explanation. This conviction that direct deed is the most meaningful reflection, I believe, has prompted the evolution of the extremely severe and unique disciplines of the jazz or improvising musician.
Group improvisation is a further challenge. Aside from the weighty technical problem of collective coherent thinking, there is the very human, even social need for sympathy from all members to bend for the common result. This most difficult problem, I think, is beautifully met and solved in this recording. As the painter needs his framework of parchment, the improvising musical group needs its framework in time. Miles Davis presents here frameworks which are exquisite in their simplicity and yet contain all that is necessary to stimulate performance with a sure reference to the primary conception.

Miles conceived these settings only hours before the recording dates and arrived with sketches which indicated to the group what was to be played. Therefore, you will hear something close to pure spontaneity in these performances. The group had never played these pieces prior to the recordings and I think without exception the first complete performance of each was a “take”. Although it is not uncommon for a jazz musician to be expected to improvise on new material at a recording session, the character of these pieces represents a particular challenge.

Briefly, the formal character of the five settings are:
“So What” is a simple figure based on 16 measures of one scale, 8 of another and 8 more of the first, following a piano and bass introduction in free rhythmic style. “Freddie Freeloader” is a 12-measure blues form given new personality by effective melodic and rhythmic simplicity. “Blue in Green”** is a 10-measure circular form following a 4-measure introduction, and played by soloists in various augmentation and diminution of time values. “All Blues”** is a 6/812-measure blues form that produces its mood through only a few modal changes and Miles Davis’ free melodic conception. “Flamenco Sketches” (two takes)** is a series of five scales, each to be played as long as the soloist wishes until he has completed the series.

(Freddie Freeloader)

* More than a milestone in jazz, Kind of Blue is a defining moment of twentieth century music, one of those incredibly rare works of art that achieve equal popularity among musicians, critics, and the public at large. The rest of us might tend to agree with Jimmy Cobb, the drummer on the album, who commented of Kind of Blue that it “must have been made in heaven.” Don’t we all enjoy a taste of heaven now and then? (…) Here, for the first time, is Kind of Blue complete, sounding big and rich and true to life and right on key. If you’re going to heaven, might as well go first-class all the way. (From the presentation of the 1997 re-issue of Kind of Blue).

** Played before in this blog.

All compositions by Miles Davis (Trumpet). Featuring: Julian "Cannonball" Adderley (Alto Saxophone, except 'Blue in Green'), Paul Chambers (Bass), James Cobb (Drums), John Coltrane (Tenor Saxophone), Bill Evans (Piano), Wynton Kelly (Piano, 'Freddie Freeloader'). Recorded at Columbia 30th Street Studio, New York City on March 2, 1959 (#1-3) and April 22, 1959 (#4,5,6).

© 1997 Sony Music Entertainment Inc./Columbia.