Jazz Corner: A Tiny Space Where Genius Resides

How does one quantify ‘subtlety’ or ‘finesse’? How does one define a pause between moments in time or between notes of music? And really, for all the mileage we have given the much-used advice, “Read between the lines,” exactly what is there between the lines?

Actually, there is a whole world that dwells in the space between those undefined pauses between moments of time and those between one musical note and its adjacent member. These are the spaces in which lives ‘creativity,’ that elusive bit of an artistic mind that often causes readers and listeners a feeling of awe and wonderment.

‘Liminal space’ refers to the transitional space between one moment and the next, between one musical note and the next. It is a concept not easily understood in a literal sense because it is ultimately a space that is fleeting, even transitory, and can only be felt.

It is what makes you want to hear multiple versions of a song and see the artist perform the same thing on different occasions. It is a matter of capturing the journey in time between one note and the next; sometimes, magic happens in this infinitesimal space.

In jazz, one example of seeking the liminal space is the highly creative pianist Thelonius Monk. It was said of him affectionately by one of his contemporaries, that Monk would seek to find the sound in the space between the keys of his piano!

Monk was a product of the extremely fertile period of jazz creativity in the 1940s and 50s. Yet, his music, his compositions, and his playing of jazz piano stood out uniquely because of his approach and point of view. An instance of his jazz perspective comes from the way he came upon the name “Evidence” for one of his famous compositions.

After the advent of ‘bebop’ in the post-war (WW2) jazz scene, a few musicians were exploring the changes available to them in conventional compositions. Monk was experimenting with the sweet swing ballad “Just you, just me”. He worked on changing a few notes and arrived at a completely new composition. He then wanted to name it appropriately and came up with the name “Evidence”. Asked why this title, he reasoned, “Just you, just me sounds like just us…..or justice. What is needed for justice is evidence!”. His sounds were as enigmatic as his reasoning.

He sought and found a space that eluded others. He found music in the cracks between the piano keys. He also found his face once on the cover of Time magazine.

We are often impressed, even charmed by the sense of delivery and timing in music, oratory or theatre. How the artist arrives from one note to the subsequent one or a speaker from one word to the next often becomes a matter of intrigue for a listener.

Jazz saxophonist Dexter Gordon would arrive at a musical note almost teasing the listener. He would arrive just on the afterbeat. Pianists Ahmad Jamal and Count Basie would also intrigue the listener with their use of time and space between notes.

A lot of music is created almost metronomically, the notes are precisely on the dot. Much too often this music is repeatable – and predictable, rather like a marching band. The realm of ‘pop’ music is replete with examples of this ‘consistency’.

Jazz musicians sometimes tease you with the lag on the fourth beat. Singer Billie Holiday was one who would ‘hold back’ arriving at the fourth beat. Carmen MacRae was another example of this masterful technique. These folks are not easy to play along or sing along with.

Don’t ever expect them at a karaoke set up but do enjoy listening to Dexter and Billie and Carmen and Basie and Jamal and a host of others whenever you can.

These jazz musicians take you musically where others seldom tread.

It is in the cracks between the piano keys, in the infinitesimal spaces in music or speech that genius resides. It thrives in the liminal space.

Just listen. You will be pleasantly surprised.

Sunil Sampat is a jazz critic and Contributing Editor of Rolling Stone India. Write to Sunil at jazzwala@gmail.com