Tag: competition

Hilary Hahn Concludes Her Model Contest

Hilary Hahn - Photo by Peter Miller

Hilary Hahn – Photo by Peter Miller

You may remember a column of mine back in October where I described a new composition contest that Hilary Hahn was sponsoring as part of her new Encores Project. I was really impressed by the structure of the contest–the fact that, while works had to be completely new, both the instrumentation (violin and piano) and duration (3.5-5 minutes in length) would not be burdensome to composers who wished to take part. It proved to me that the sponsor cared about the creators. The fact that as many as 10 honorable mentions might be picked as well as the grand prize winner demonstrated that this was not a “kingmaker” contest, but one that truly strove for diversity and a wide net. Finally, and most impressive to me, not only was there no fee, but $2 would be donated to the Dramatic Need charity for every entry. One only hopes that other contests take note of these welcome items.

Well, the contest guideline said that the winners would be announced on June 15 and the contest administrators were kind enough to not only give me a sneak peak at who the winners were (all eleven of them!) but gave me the privilege of speaking with Hilary Hahn herself about the contest, its winners, and her current adventures.

First off, the winners! The following was posted last night on Hilary’s Facebook page:

Hilary is very happy to announce the winner and the ten honorable mentions of her ‘In 27 Pieces: the Hilary Hahn Encores’ online contest. They are:

Winner:
Jeff Myers: “The Angry Birds of Kauai”
(Hilary interviews Jeff here.)

Honorable Mentions (in alphabetical order):
Philip Brownlee: “Pariwhero”
Nikolet Burzynska: “Orna-mention”
Tristan D’Agosta: “Piece for Violin and Piano”
Mark Gresham: “Café Cortadito”
George Kontogiorgos: “Before the Rain Starts”
Marius Felix Lange: “Nutcracker’s Nightmare”
Garth Neustadter: “Volitation”
Aaron Severini: “Catch”
Rani Sharone: “Tick”
Octavio Vazquez: “NGC 6611”

Hilary will tour Jeff Myers’s encore during the 13-14 season and will record it for release. She has also committed to performing every Honorable Mention encore by the end of 2015! Thanks to the over 400 composers who participated in this project. Hilary was thrilled to listen to all of your pieces. -HH’s team

The following interview was recorded on June 14, 2012
Text and recording produced and edited by Rob Deemer

[A recording of the entire interview is posted at the conclusion of this transcript–I’ll apologize for the slight delay between me and Hilary near the end, as the recording software inadvertently allowed her audio to slip a bit. – RD]

Rob: For those who are unaware of your Encores Project, can you give a little background on it and where things are at within that process?

Hilary: I’ve premiered half of it—there are 27 pieces—this past season. I’ve premiered 13, and I’m going to premiere the rest of the 14 next season, including the winner of the contest. I’m recording each half of the project each season, so I’ve already recorded half the project and will record the other half next season, and it will all probably be released in early 2014.

It arose out of a time when it seemed that there were so many encore collections coming out in print and recordings, and about ten years ago I was curious where the new encore collections were. I realized that while I would hear people play new encores after concertos, I just wasn’t feeling that people were aware that new pieces could be written as encores and could really catch on. I was also thinking back to the time when violinists and other instrumentalists were touring recital programs in which they would perform whole series of these short pieces in the program, as well as playing concertos with piano. So it was a much more flexible setup.

I thought it would be nice to look back as well as look forward by putting together a project that would enable me to program things like when these really popular older encores were new, as well as focus on new music and draw attention to these composers and great pieces that were being written today.

Rob: You could have easily stopped there and just picked those first 26 composers. What made you want to add a contest of this scope to the project?

Hilary: I’m not quite sure why I initially thought of it, though I have wanted to have that be part of a project for quite a while. When I was doing the research for, well, research for me as I was picking which composers to ask for this particular project—which meant staying up really late at night with chocolate and a cup of tea, sitting by my computer surfing the internet like crazy—I would go to all these sites that had information on living composers and listen to every single person listed on each site. It was important to me that they had a presence online, because if I liked one piece, then I would be able to get to know their other work in general.

After a while I realized that there are so many composers who were probably missing, and it’s really a coincidence, whom you become familiar with, whether it was through colleagues or presenters or program directors. I tried to get as much information as possible, but there are so many great composers out there who either aren’t on the forefront of what people are aware of or whose works I wouldn’t necessarily have come across or students who I would not have had the chance to hear their music. I also wanted people to think about writing encores. The miniature form is challenging in a different sort of way and I thought it might be fun for composers to work on.

Rob: How many composers submitted works and how did you go about selecting both the winner and the honorable mentions?

Hilary: We got 409 entries…I didn’t know what to expect—some said we’d get thousands, and I hoped that we would have at least had 30, so it wound up in the middle. That was really good because I was the only judge; the idea was that I would be the only person judging until I couldn’t do any more judging and then I’d see if I needed help. I had a project assistant making sure they were anonymous, taking out references to titles and names and keeping track of who wrote what so we could contact the right person. It was neat because I never knew what I was going to be listening to and seeing when I opened up these entries; I had no idea who wrote them or what they were thinking about from the title. So that was really fun…it was like getting a bunch of presents!

I wasn’t sure what I was going to be listening for because I didn’t know what type of pieces would be coming in. If I had a specific thing in mind, I would miss a lot of the really interesting things that these pieces had to offer by not seeing what was in front of me and only looking for one particular thing that might not even be there. I just wanted to study the scores and listen to the MIDI and find something that I would want to interpret.

At first I would look to see what was well-written, but I realized that there were so many interesting pieces that it would have to be boiled down in a different way—that would have to really be about what I felt like playing. There were others that were terrific but were too close to other works that were already in the project, and I felt bad in those cases because there was nothing about the piece that kept it from being a grand prize winner. I also looked at balance between the violin and the piano in terms of give-and-take, as well as issues that would make the work so idiosyncratic to my way of playing that they wouldn’t have a life after I performed them.

Ultimately I had to narrow it down to eleven pieces at the most—I originally thought that I’d pick three or four honorable mentions, but I wound up wanting to use all of those ten, and maybe another ten too, but it essentially became clear to me that this particular set was right. I picked the grand prize winner by studying all eleven scores that I had narrowed down day after day and looked at which one worked really well for this project and which one had the most potential for me to interpret.

Rob: Can you tell us a little bit about the winning work and at least some of the works that won honorable mention?

Hilary: What I found really fun was discovering who wrote what after I picked them and reading about them online because it felt like I knew these pieces already. They’d stuck in my head—that’s anther reason why I picked this final group because they’re the ones that really stuck with me…I’d be walking down the street and a theme would pop into my head and I’d be, “What tune is that? Oh, it’s #264!” I was really surprised at how wide-ranging these composers were from their photos and bios online—where they were from, what their musical backgrounds are, and what kind of people they seemed to be.

The grand prize winner—his name is Jeff Myers, he’s been living and teaching in Hawaii [he just finished a visiting professor position at UH —RD] and he was inspired by birds that he heard outside early in the morning, but it’s truly not a “bird piece”. You can really hear where the inspiration comes from and the piece develops from there. I felt that the piece has this interesting alternation between violin and piano as it begins, and that was a feature that I had been curious to find in a piece. That give-and-take dialogue between colleagues onstage is what keeps music alive and I was curious to see that manifested in such a concrete way. I also felt that it was put together very nicely—I kept wanting to listen to it all the way through. When I was looking at the score, I was always wondering where it was going to go next, yet it has this satisfying overarching feel to it that I was really impressed by. I think the piece has a lot of humor and excitement…it’s kinda zany in a lot of places…and seems like it’s a really good encore for a general audience to listen to as well as a performer to play.

The other composers range from a NYC ballet dancer to a guy who works a lot in film and also has a couple of alt-rock metal bands, as well as a lot of composers who are making their careers as classical composers. Actually it surprised me when I went to the bios because I was hoping I was going to wind up with a range of people, but I had no idea of who I’d get. I was impressed at how many of them are committed to composing and that they took the time to participate in the contest—I thought that was really nice.

The honorable mention pieces range from classic encore style pieces with very defined character to abstract soundscapes. I tried to show the range of the contest in the honorable mentions with having the avant-garde pieces mixed in with other great classic encore pieces that could have been lifted out of the 19th and early 20th centuries. Some of them are really good at showing off the range of what the violin can do—one thing I was looking for was pieces that were written well for violin. I can’t necessarily tell what’s written well for piano, of course, but I know when something seems like it’s not maximizing the instrument’s capabilities and I really wanted to pick pieces that would be challenging to work on and rewarding to listen to week after week. I have decided that I will be playing the honorable mentions as well—I had not initially intended to do this, but when I heard the pieces I wanted to play them, and I had grown attached to them after I had spent so much time with them, so I’ve decided to play them all by the end of 2015.

Rob: I was doing a little homework before I called you and looked up Jeff on his Facebook page, and it turns out that he and his wife just had a baby boy this week…

Hilary: Yes! They had to go to the hospital a few hours after he got the e-mail that he won. The funny thing is that we were wondering what the winner was going to think when they received the news, and when the administrators of the project let me know that he was on the way to the hospital I thought “Well, that completely blows this out—contest winner…baby…baby wins!” It was really exciting because a lot of the time with music you don’t feel that it’s connected to the composer’s life in a concrete way and in this particular piece—yes, something happened in the composer’s life around the time that I became connected with his music.

Hilary speaks with Jeff Myers about his piece and his new baby

Rob: One of the most unique aspects of this contest was the fact that a donation was given for every received entry. Can you tell us a little about Dramatic Need and what made you decide to incorporate that into the contest?

Hilary: I think music has quite a reach geographically as well as culturally, and I wanted to somehow tie in the greater musical impact to this particular contest. An encore is a piece of music that leaves a very distinct impression at the end of a concert, or it creates its own little world if its programmed in the middle of a concert, but it could just end there and I thought it would be nice for the people writing for the contest—because not everyone could win—to incorporate the broader impact of music into their contributions. It was intentional that there would be no fee because it didn’t occur to me that you could ask someone to pay to enter a contest—it didn’t seem to make a lot of sense—so I just figured that while I couldn’t pay the composers for their works, they could feel like they’ve made a contribution by being automatically part of making a contribution.

So I looked around for organizations. I wanted this contest to be international, so I didn’t want to just pick an organization that was based in the United States, although there are wonderful groups doing great work here, and I read about Dramatic Need. I thought it was a good program because it’s very community-based, it’s internationally organized, it touches a lot of different cultures, and it serves a very important need that wouldn’t otherwise be met which is bringing the arts and certain aspects of education into communities where they don’t necessarily exist. It’s a modest contribution, but I wanted to get people to start thinking outside of their own musical world and what music could do.

Rob: What’s next on the horizon for you (if you want to touch briefly on the improvisational work you’ve been doing recently with Hauschka) and do you see yourself doing something like this again?

Hilary: I loved doing this! You can ask me at the end of two years from now, but I can’t imagine that I will have any bad experience out of it. The thing that I have been surprised by with this project is that four minutes of music is not four minutes of music, but it’s a musical language and it is it’s own musical world. Of the composers whose works I’ve played so far, I had only worked with one of them before, and I hadn’t thought that when I play someone’s work, if it’s a short piece, that I still have to learn their style, I still have to get inside the music in a way that requires me to be very familiar with their writing. To enter into that in a short piece is a challenge. It has really pushed me to think a lot about the pieces that I play by the composers whom I feel that I’m very familiar with. It’s been a huge learning process and I feel that it’s pushed my mind a lot, interpretively.

It’s interesting that around that same time I began to work with Hauschka because I never set out to compose or improvise a lot. When I crossed paths with him, we wanted to work together and we said “Well, what are we going to do together? What repertoire is there?” and then we’re like “Well…let’s do something that we create together.” I’d been wanting to do something from the ground up, because I’d worked with musicians outside of classical music and it was a matter of fitting in and enhancing their music without disturbing it—so I would improvise along those lines. But I never had the “blank slate” to start with and create something out of that. So really, the project with Hauschka was about working with him, not even publicly, but getting together and exploring ideas and seeing what those ideas could be and learning what it’s like to create something from thin air, but not exactly thin air, because you have all of your experiences that you’ve had in your past that inform you.

So at the time I was biting into all of these composers’ ways of writing, I was also understanding the compositional process a little better as far as the first inklings of something you want to create musically. It wasn’t anything that I intended to do simultaneously and I didn’t think that they would necessarily inform each other, but it’s been really interesting to work on those projects and all the stuff that normally I do, so it’s been quite a busy couple of years—especially this season as a lot of it has come to a head. And with Hauschka, we’ve been touring and we have this record that we didn’t intend to make, but we wanted to see how we worked in the studio—maybe put out a track or an EP, but we made a record in ten days! Now we have this unexpected record that we don’t quite know what to do with…but it’s been great to get on stage with him and work with him. Over the summer I’ll be learning the 14 encores that I haven’t learned yet for next season and get back to the repertoire that I haven’t worked with in a while.

Rob: Well, I know that there were many, many composers who, when your contest came out, were amazed at not only how much thought when into it, but also said “Ah…why can’t more contests be like this?” so it’s been fun to be able to watch this and it’ll be fun to see what happens with all of the honorable mentions and the grand prize winner.

Hilary: Well, I got a great sponsor just recently to cover some of the basic administrative costs, so maybe that’s why more contests charge, to cover their costs? I actually scoured a lot of contest sites to see what people normally do…I think I just missed the part where they charge entry [laughs]! Throughout this project I’ve been trying to draw individual sponsors into the project to be excited and be involved because it’s also a statement to me.

You know, I wanted people to be more aware that there was contemporary music being written and I wanted to show that there are a lot of people that are passionate about it, that think that it is really important and are willing to throw their weight behind getting these piece to come to life. I’ve been really fortunate to be connected to these great patrons who are excited about the project, and it’s a very helpful thing to know that people believe in it and to be able to go from there and take the project to the greater world.

I really enjoyed putting the contest together, and I am very grateful for the number of people that participated and really pushed themselves into writing their pieces. I hope that the people who aren’t in this set of eleven will start looking for performance opportunities for their work in the future and find someone to play their piece, because that’s how you learn what your pieces are as a composer. As a performer, you don’t know what a piece is for you until you get on stage; you can only work so far in the practice room and then you have to see what it does when it’s in front of an audience. I think these pieces really deserve to be heard and it’s fantastic that through this project now, through all the people who have participated, there’s about 430-440 new pieces for violin and piano that now exist in the world, and I hope people keep writing them!

Complete audio from Rob Deemer’s interview with Hilary Hahn

The Kids Are Alright: The Texas Young Composers Concert

When I was in high school, most of my free time was spent figuring out Van Halen licks, not writing orchestral music. I played classical guitar a bit and spent two years in juvenile detention at Tickle The Ivories Penitentiary, so I had some familiarity with the little black dots. However, for any number of reasons, the idea of composing never occurred to me. Who was I to put those things in order? This is apparently a question that never came to mind for the nine students who were chosen from across Texas to have their works performed at the Austin Symphony Orchestra’s second annual Texas Young Composers Concert. Still, even the night’s first composer Jack Roberts understood that this set him apart. “Writing music is just not a normal thing for a kid to do,” he acknowledged.

2012 Texas Young Composers Concert Winners

2012 Texas Young Composers Concert Winners with Joe R. Long (center) and ASO Executive Director Anthony Corroa (right). Photo by Don Hill.

Roberts’s Into the West was the opening work of the evening and was introduced by the composer via a short video projected above the orchestra. Similar videos preceded each piece and provided not only information about the background of the composer and the generation of the work, but also insight into the maturity and character of each artist. I’ve often said that I’m a very lucky guy to have not grown up in the YouTube age[1], but I can’t help but wonder if a sense of constant observation might speak to the high level of maturity and eloquence on display in these presentations. Bursting in all its pentatonic glory, Into the West put on display a number of tropes from the best of the old Westerns. Bright leaping horns held the door open for sad strings, all of it culminating in a triumphant ending.

Austin’s Jocelyn Chambers told a story of staring at a blank Sibelius screen, warmed over John Williams themes created and erased, while her grandfather played piano in another room. From among the lines coming from the piano, a Bb, Ab, and G spoke to her and became the germinal motive for her work My Heart. A largely melancholy composition with a number of dramatic transitions and a glimmer of hope in the woodwinds, My Heart was an impressive show for the youngest of the night’s composers.

Garrett Tatum’s Paradise—Paradise Lost had a strong declamatory opening, great brass voicings, and rich string scoring, all leading to a playful waltz which occasionally straddled the line between whole tone and diatonic. Contrasts by Wells Leng was just that, relative to Tatum’s work. A slow entrance in the winds paved the way for odd-time, ostinato, pentatonic material treated polyphonically at first but also leaving space for a number of solo sections. Trevor Villwock’s When I Woke Up in the Forest wrapped up the first half of the show with Tchaikovskian orchestration and a focus on the flute.

Bleak Dawn by Behnam Arzaghi was the most contemplative work of the evening. A broad harmonic language and long lingering lines set the stage for a more focused mix of Persian folk tunes and lyrical melodies which played hide and seek in the texture. Brennan Anderson’s Downfall Rising was a fantasy narrative of sorts, complete with peasants, heroes, and villains drawn from his experience in writing music for video games. (I should mention that although this was the first time I’ve actually met Brennan in person, I’ve corresponded with him ever since he approached me for an internship a few years back. We weren’t able to make it work at the time but we’ve kept in touch, and I was happy to see that he’d made better use of his time than running to get coffee for me.) Brandon Maahs’s Song of Love and Joy, the first movement from his Symphony No. 1, had a number of compelling features, including thoughtful string orchestration, use of 7/8, and arguably the most thunderous “Kaboom Ending!” of the evening. Finally, Jared Beu’s Affirmation featured varied and rich harmonic language, strong changes of mood, and a wonderful interplay of harmonies in the brass and flourishes in the woodwinds.

*

Let me tell you, if you want to see some proud parents (and hear some great tunes!) then be sure to check out next year’s show. Music Director Peter Bay and the orchestra put all of their forces to bear on these works, and when the composers (dressed to the nines in everything from tuxedos to Charlie Chaplin bowlers—I’m looking at you Brennan) were acknowledged in the boxes…well, let’s just say if you could harness the beaming power of those parents, you could power the country for a month. Or the East Coast leg of the Fair Warning tour.

***


1. There are quite enough thoroughly embarrassing still photos. Thanks, Dad.

Clique Enter

(Continued from March 9)

While competition has been a unifying, if not always edifying, quality of Western art music since the Pythian Games of Ancient Greece and (as much as it is part of the human condition) dictates what our daily musical experience looks and sounds like, I’m sure that music didn’t start out that way. The earliest music was about defining and strengthening one’s relationship with fellow human beings, the society they formed and the environment(s) they understood themselves to coexist in. But it is now an art, commodity and business in a market-driven globalized milieu that makes competition an essential thread sewn into the weave of our self-worth. The somewhat outmoded belief that, as Native American saxophonist Jim Pepper put it, “good, healthy competition” makes all who participate stronger might be being superseded by an institutionalized ruthlessness where any means are justified by successfully achieving one’s ends.

I was disheartened to find that in a course called “Effective College Teaching,” I had to vote one of my “teammates” as the weakest link as part of my final exam. I refused to participate in that exercise and assume that the rest of the team voted me as the weakest link. It was explained to me that in teamwork (which no improvising musician could possibly understand), there is no such thing as equal participation. Fortunately, the minimally passing grade didn’t hold up my master’s in jazz history, but it reminded me of stories I’d heard where a musician’s audition was compromised by another vying for the same opportunity. Sadly, a little dirty pool can be attractive to the pathologically ambitious. How does this relate to jazz and/or improvised music in general? I believe it goes to the fallacy of the so-called Noble Savage as an expression of social snobbery.

In course of time, an unmusical license set in with the appearance of poets who were men [of] native genius, but ignorant of what is right and legitimate in the realm of the Muses. Possessed by a frantic and unhallowed lust for pleasure, they…actually imitated the strains of the flute on the harp, and created a universal confusion of forms. T[his]…folly led them unintentionally to slander their profession by [assuming] that in music there is no such thing as a right and a wrong, the right standard of judgment being the pleasure given to the hearer, be he high or low. By compositions of such a kind and discourse to the same effect, they naturally inspired the multitude with contempt of musical law, and a conceit of their own competence as judges. Thus our once silent audiences have found a voice, in the persuasion that they understand what is good and bad in art; the old “sovereignty of the best” in that sphere has given way to an evil “sovereignty of the audience.”—Plato, Laws, 700a1

If it hadn’t been written 2,400 years ago, this quote could have been a critique of hip-hop culture (and I’m sure that there are those who would take that idea as an example of how the Ancient Greeks “got it right”), but for 500 years Western music has reflected the concerted efforts of a few groups of powerful Florentine gentlemen to reinvent the music of Ancient Greece by staging “works” emphasizing monodic unfolding of melody instead of Franco-Flemish architectures. That the influence of Vincenzo Galilei (father of astronomer Galileo)—who preferred the use of major and minor keys over church modes in his compositions—is attributed as spearheading the then modern style of composition requires a posture of scientificness applicable to academically-based musicianship. Whether or not this is a valuable, viable, or even valid approach to music making is moot because it is ubiquitous. Monody is how music is popularly expressed today and stands as a testament to what the elder Galilei and his drinking buddies thought about the music of Plato’s republic.

It is important to note that the Florentine Camarati were part of a shift from the study of Greek and Arabic writings to studying Greek and Roman texts as the basis for proper intellectual development. (One could assume that bribing a librarian in Rome was easier than bribing one in Constantinople.) This necessarily included an examination of the work of Roman historian and senator Publius Cornelius Tacitus. Among Tacitus’s writings was a narrative, Germania, that expressed the notion of something problematic about the Roman Empire, what with all of the conquest of surrounding lands and cultures to support the extravagant and decadent lifestyles of Rome’s ultra-wealthy businessmen and politicians. Tacitus saw a time when the police-state Rome had become would be unsupportable and looked to the German tribes of Northern Europe as having social traditions that were, since they apparently resisted Roman occupation so well, possibly better suited to successful civilization. To minimize any popular unrest his liberal insights might inspire, Tacitus was hustled out of Dodge with an appointment as governor of Asia and Anatolia. I can’t say whether or not Rousseau’s theories of natural humanity were directly inspired by Tacitus, but by the end of the Baroque period the inclusion of “noble savages” in French opera had become a great excuse for nudity in polite company and primitivism was part of cutting-edge philosophy and was an important part in the establishment of an independent national entity in the Western Hemisphere. Among the “Founding Fathers” was the inventor of a musical instrument that used tuned glass cylinders that vibrated when moistened. He also wrote an essay, “Remarks Concerning the Savages of North America” that suggested that so-called “primitive” cultures weren’t primitive at all; they had just developed from alternate philosophies and traditions.

It is no secret that the Eurocentric American mindset tends to look at modernity as equivalent to superiority vis-à-vis literacy and technological and economic development—an illiterate culture with uncomplicated tools that successfully lives in the same spot for thousands of years without destroying the local resources is the epitome of primitive and savage. This mindset is also dedicated to recreating itself as being independent from (and, therefore, superior to) its European origins and has gone to great pains to mask its Continental characteristics. This effort is inclusive of the arts and can be exemplified by the National Conservatory in New York’s hiring of Antonín Dvořák in 1892 as its director. A staunch advocate of musical nationalism, Dvořák was expected to help identify a course for the creation of distinctly American music. As the reader is well aware, he earned his $15,000 ($368,850 in today’s currency) by pointing to Native and African American music as a source of melodic and harmonic content. The beauty of Dvořák’s insight is that it went far towards establishing a permanent point of inclusivity and mutualism in American sub-and supra-cultural relations, a kind of collusion of cliques that would transcend the model of thematic appropriation demonstrated in his Symphony No. 9 (“From the New World”). Matters of non-European intonation not “fixed” on a specific pitch center, diverse and sometimes apparently randomly organized rhythmic schemes, socially informed musical forms, and large tracts of improvised elements—salient to African and Native American musics—were insurmountable to the literate-dominant processes of European American culture.

Looking just at the issue of improvisation, one thing is agreed: it isn’t ubiquitous among the practitioners of Western art music. Certainly there have always been performers who could improvise cadenzas and codas (if merely to cover up a mistake). Liszt, Paderewski, and Horowitz are all documented as having done so. But most “classically” trained performers find the prospect daunting and prefer to think of “interpretation” as synonymous with improvisation. This comes as no surprise since the amount of “dos-and-don’ts” codified in traditional music theory make improvising a convincing modern fugue extremely difficult. And forget about sonata form, that’s impossible. (I’d love to be proved wrong.) Even expert jazz improvisers like Louis Armstrong were known to write out solos before they were recorded or, like Charlie Parker, memorize their own improvisations to play later. Improvisation isn’t easy.

It might seem like a contradiction, but improvisation is nearly ubiquitous throughout the American music scene. In most major orchestras, improvisers can be found, usually among the brass, string bass, and percussion sections, and there are string quartets that include improvisation as a novelty. But non-improvising musicians aren’t necessarily tied down to specific genres or styles because they read music already composed. They can rehearse a new work for a premiere in the morning, record a soundtrack in the afternoon, and play Beethoven at night. Most big bands include musicians who aren’t improvisers. And while improvisers aren’t limited to improvising, when they improvise, a style or genre is usually associated with their improvisations. One of the natural tendencies is for cliques, small and exclusive groups of friends and/or associates, to form of musicians who improvise the same genre and style of music together.

To be continued …