{"id":8345,"date":"2024-05-07T21:50:06","date_gmt":"2024-05-08T02:50:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/postgenre.org\/staging\/4567\/?p=8345"},"modified":"2024-05-08T06:45:11","modified_gmt":"2024-05-08T11:45:11","slug":"virtues-of-melody-alan-braufman","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/postgenre.org\/staging\/4567\/virtues-of-melody-alan-braufman\/","title":{"rendered":"Virtues of Melody: A Conversation with Alan Braufman on ‘Infinite Love Infinite Tears’"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart once noted that \u201cmelody is the essence of music.\u201d This may be true, but such a perspective overlooks how melody can also serve as a restraint. For an artist seeking to freely express themselves, would not adherence to a central motific theme stand in their way? As a result, in the mid to late Twentieth Century, as composers of all stripes pushed for increased freedom in their music, often, the melody became obfuscated. Or absent entirely. But as Alan Braufman reminds listeners with Infinite Love Infinite Tears<\/em> (Valley of Search, 2024), the distinction between free expression and strict melody is one of gradation, not absolutism. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

To call the saxophonist\u2019s pieces \u201csimplistic\u201d would seemingly belittle them. Still, there is an instantly relatable nature to his work. One can easily hum or sing – Braufman\u2019s\u00a0preferred compositional approach – them compared to some intricately complex arrangement of sounds composed at a piano. The result is unavoidably theme-driven tracks as on the aptly titled \u201cChasing a Melody.\u201d\u00a0The song is an Ornettish anthem that proclaims that part of the reason the greats of free music – whether Albert Ayler, John Coltrane, or the Master of Harmolodics himself – were brilliant was not merely because of the wild abandon of their solos but their ability to craft memorable melodies. Similarly,\u00a0\u201cBrooklyn\u201d\u00a0is prefaced on propulsive Afro-Caribbean rhythms over which the\u00a0leader\u2019 laid-back flute gently glides. Actually, two-thirds of the album is in major key, adding tranquility to the affair. But make no mistake, Infinite Love Infinite Tears<\/em>\u00a0is a quintessentially free recording. This\u00a0is most evident in\u00a0\u201cSpirits,\u201d\u00a0where a slow and steady march turns turbulent as it swirls and twists around Patricia\u00a0Brennan\u2019s\u00a0vibraphone\u2019s whirs and bends.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Braufman can smoothly combine free expression and clear melodies partly because he\u2019s always done it. It is the reason his music has been referred to as \u201coptimistic free jazz.\u201d While the saxophonist\u2019s output is somewhat limited – where some artists release several albums each year, he has only a handful under his name – quality more than offsets quantity. His debut, Valley of Search <\/em>(India Navigation, 1975) – with Cooper-Moore, Cecil McBee, David Lee, and Ralph Williams – is considered a classic recording of the loft jazz scene, an art form that prospered in an era when improvised music supposedly \u201cdied.\u201d The record\u2019s influence is so significant that even the artist himself was surprised by the reception received when his nephew, Nabil Ayers, reissued the recording in 2018. The firepower surrounding him on Infinite Love Infinite Tears <\/em>further underscores his artistic importance. James Brandon Lewis, Patricia Brennan, Ken Fillano, Chad Taylor, and Michael Wimberly are the types of artists who work on only the finest of projects. Between Braufman’s compositional prowess and the brilliance of those executing his thoughts while adding their own, Infinite Love Infinite Tears<\/em> is a recording that proves that alienating some listeners is not a requisite for free expression. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We sat down with Braufman to discuss Philip Glass, the loft jazz scene, and the making of his new record.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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PostGenre: To start with a somewhat random question, you worked with Philip Glass at one point, right?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Alan Braufman: That’s an interesting story. I almost worked with him. In 1972, I took some time off from [the] Berklee [College of Music] and moved back to New York. During that period, almost every night, I used to go to jam sessions a drummer friend of mine named David Lee, who is also on Valley of Search<\/em>, would put on in his friend\u2019s loft. It was almost always the same people; they weren\u2019t open sessions. But Philip Glass used to hang out there all the time and was friends with the musicians. This was back before he was well known. He heard me, liked my playing, and invited me to play in a band. The band was going to be synth and four saxophones. The music was incredibly complex.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I went to some rehearsals, and then Philip invited me to do my first gig with them. I was going to be in the band. But, for the same night we were supposed to perform, Cooper-Moore and I got invited to play as a duo over the radio for WKCR. We got that invitation about a month before the scheduled performance with Philip, so it wasn\u2019t like it came at the last minute. But I decided to do the WKCR thing with Cooper-Moore instead of the concert with Phillip. And shortly after that, I moved back up to Boston. So, working with Philip just never happened.\u00a0 I\u2019ve always wondered what would have happened if I made a different decision and instead did the concert with Phil and didn’t go back to Boston. But Cooper-Moore and I were able to make a lot more music after I got back to Boston.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

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