Density and Space: A Conversation with Yuma Uesaka and Marilyn Crispell
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Since the 1970s, Marilyn Crispell has been a major figure in creative music, pushing the piano into new realms, whether her hands are on its keys or in the instrument itself. While Crispell has some beautiful solo, trio, and quartet recordings to her name, it seems she has a particular affinity for the intimacy of a conversation between just two artists. This interest has led to some memorable duo recordings with other legends of the music, including Anthony Braxton, Joseph Jarman, and Gary Peacock. Or, more recently, collaborations with Tyshawn Sorey and – in what this author believes to be one of the best releases of 2020- Angelica Sanchez. The pianist continues this tradition with Streams (Not Two, 2021) with saxophonist-clarinetist Yuma Uesaka.
Uesaka has not yet developed a career as impressive as the names mentioned above. But this comes far more from his age – he is only thirty – than his artistry; he has only a handful of albums to his credit, including last year’s Ocelot (577, 2020) with Cat Toren and Colin Hinton. One may find it odd for Crispell to go from working with some of the premier artists in the creative music scene to teaming up with an artist who is still fairly early in his career. But, as Crispell noted in our conversation, “It doesn’t mean anything to [her] if somebody is a newcomer…it’s really about who the person is and the music, you know?” If Streams is any indication, her perspective on this matter is wise.
Like its namesake, Streams can reflect a rapid flow of sounds one minute, and a slow and gentle trickle the next. Compositions readily pour into one another. Silence and space play a central role throughout. It is an album rich in detail and subtlety, the kind that demands the listener’s attention. But, at the same time, perhaps guided by both artists’ interests in meditation, it asks its audience to contemplate not just the music but many things larger than themselves. We sat down with both artists to discuss the process of making the album, its place alongside Crispell’s other duo recordings, and its connection to poetry and Japanese court music.
PostGenre: When was the first time you heard each other’s music?
Yuma Uesaka: That’s a good question. I’ll start. Marilyn has a lot more output than I do so I’m pretty sure the first time she heard me was when I had sent her my music.
Marilyn Crispell: That’s right.
YU: Overall, I found Marilyn through her recordings from the 1980s and 1990s. I think the first time I heard Marilyn’s music was from her work with Anthony Braxton’s quartet in the 1980s, specifically the Vancouver recording from 1989 [Vancouver Duets (Music & Arts, 1989)].
I also became a fan of her album with Joseph Jarman [Connecting Spirits (Music & Arts, 1996)]. Everything resonated with me in terms of what I had heard Marilyn play on those recordings. However, that record with Jarman hit me hard. The first time I heard it I was driving a car but became so drawn into the music – there is just so much going on in that album – that I struggled to focus on the road.
Listening to those albums inspired me to go see her perform live. The first time I saw Marilyn perform, it was with Tyshawn Sorey at The Kitchen in, I think, 2018. And, after that, I saw her with Angelica Sanchez at the Greenwich House Music School. After that second performance, I felt very compelled to reach out and see if I could play with her.
MC: I’m really glad you did.
As Yuma said, I first heard his music when he contacted me and sent me some things. I met Yuma at that date I was playing with Angelica Sanchez. He came up and we talked for a while afterward. I felt a great connection with him on many different levels so was very happy when he contacted me to do something.
PG: Did you both decide after that performance to collaborate or did you wait a while to start thinking about working together?
YU: Immediately after we met, I was eager to play with Marilyn. But, at the time, she was very busy with, I think, some European tours. We managed to find a time a few months after we met to play together. It was pretty spontaneous, relatively speaking. It’s not too common in the music industry to have two artists meet and then record together a few months later.
PG: Another thing that is a little uncommon is that Streams was recorded before either of you had an opportunity to play this music before an audience.
MC: Yes. Actually, we still haven’t performed these songs before an audience. For the moment, the pandemic has put a damper on opportunities to present this music live.
PG: To build off of that, what are your thoughts on the long-term effects of the pandemic on artistic expression?
MC: It’s hard to know and impossible to predict. I’m sure people will come back and that the energy will come back strong.
YU: I tend to agree. I’m in New York City right now and things are starting to slowly open up here. I’m already feeling that people are craving the live music experience. I love listening to records but live performances are definitely something different, both from the perspective of a performer and from a listener’s perspective.
MC: Yeah, because in a live performance there is a visceral energy that is happening. Live performances give a completely different experience than listening to a recording. In some ways, live performances allow the audience members to see the music through you instead of at some more detached distance. Many times, I’ve had people come to me and tell me that seeing me play live and how my body moved to make specific sounds, allowed them to understand something I played that they feel like they wouldn’t have fully appreciated if they had heard it on a recording the first time.
A few days ago, I was in Philadelphia performing at one of the only two gigs I’ve played so far this year. It was the fourth time this particular gig – a duo performance with Tyshawn Sorey – had been scheduled and no one wanted to cancel it a fourth time. People came up to Tyshawn and me after the concert to express how different it was to them to actually see us perform. Although, I have to say that this recording with Yuma, for me, is very easy to understand when I’m listening to it. Though I’m playing on it, so maybe that’s not so weird. [laughing].
PG: Perhaps one of the things that makes Streams easier to get into is its use of silence and emphasis on the space between notes. How do you view the role of silence in music-making?
YU: I think there is value in leaving space open for whatever organically comes up. Both of our musical styles play with that idea; the idea that silence and negative spaces are just as much of something to be perceived as something more active. I think about silence a lot when I am making music.
I think an appreciation of silence also goes hand in hand with listening. If you are constantly pushing out ideas and playing, sometimes it is hard to listen. Some of the space between notes may be a byproduct of the volition to listen to integrate what is going on. Ultimately, I think silence has two roles. It can be a subject of presentation but it can also function as a way to take a brief moment to reflect and soak in what is happening in that moment.
MC: I think the importance of silence also comes from the notion of breath and not feeling a compulsion to be saying something all the time. I know when I first started playing creative music, I don’t think I left much of any silence in my performances. I was focused heavily on playing into the energy and showing what I could do.
That kind of thinking is very far away from my mindset now. Yuma and I are both into meditative practices and that may influence our use of silence. Actually, that was one thing we had discussed in our conversation after the concert with Angelica.
YU: That’s right. One of the things that came up in our conversation was how I had been up to Mount Temper, New York, which is near Woodstock [ed.: Marilyn has resided in Woodstock since 1977] to go to a Zen retreat. I believe it was at the Zen Mountain Monastery. I think that was one of the things that came up and guided our conversation. I think that our shared interest in meditative and contemplative practices not only came into our conversation but also manifested itself within our music.
MC: Yeah, I think so. Many of my favorite parts of the album are the moments that reflect some ideas from that shared interest. Especially on the last piece, “Ma / Space,” which I love. That song was based on Japanese temple music, rhythm, and other concepts. And there’s also the use of a traditional Japanese instrument.
YU: The “Ma” in the song’s title is the Japanese word for space. So, “Ma” and “Space” are really the same thing. For the last five years or so, I‘ve been spending time looking at Japanese traditional music. As part of that, I had the privilege to meet Chatori Shimizu who plays Shō on the album. He used to be in New York City and we would hang out together. When we did, I would often pick his brain about traditional Japanese music because he’s professionally played Gagaku, traditional court music, in Japan for several years. But he’s also an experimental composer who studied with, I think, George Lewis. So, there is some connection there to creative music as well.
“Ma / Space” was inspired by traditional harmony derived from the Shō. The Shō has a set of chords that are traditionally played in Gagaku. I basically took those chords and rearranged them into an almost blues-like form. There is a home base and then it goes into a four-chord then goes back. I wanted to somehow tie the aesthetics of court music to those of Black American music and jazz. And I wanted to do so in a way that was very open and spacious. So, it seemed like it was the right move to ask Chatori to actually lay down those chords. [laughing]. He did as an overdub because he happened to be in town right after we had recorded the song in 2019.
To be honest, I am afraid to state too much about Gagaku because I’m not an expert. I’ve only learned a few tidbits about it through Chatori. “Ma/Space” is essentially my interpretation of Gagaku from listening to that music for some amount of time. The concept of “Ma/Space” and leaving artful space and negative space comes from the Gagaku tradition.
MC: And then there is also that rhythmic concept, from the first part of the piece, where I would increase the tempo of each chord. Doesn’t that also happen in traditional court music?
YU: Yeah. I’m not entirely clear on some of the technical aspects of it, but I heard that sound within Gagaku where sometimes the percussion part speeds up a little bit. Even the rhythmic aspects of the music have a sense of breath to them where things are expanding and contracting. That part of the composition, where the figure speeds up and slows down on the piano reflects that. What I played was somewhat similar to, and an expansion of, the melody of a traditional Gagaku piece. If a Gagaku expert listened to “Ma/Space”, they would probably understand the overall aesthetic of it, but I took the liberty to expand the concepts in a way that felt natural to play in a duo context.
MC: It really worked for me. And there is also the poetry. I like the poetry that came with the album. Who is that poet?
YU: Yes. I’m glad you mentioned it. The poet is Rushi Vyas. He’s a good friend of mine that I had met back when I was a student at the University of Michigan. Actually, we went to India together in the summer of 2014 as part of a program where we got to study Carnatic music for about a month. We bonded during that program and kept things going since then even though we live in different cities – Rushi is based in New Zealand right now.
When we finished recording the album, I was figuring out what to do in terms of releasing it and its final presentation. I realized that having words and imagery would tie things together in the abstract music we played.
Rishi is an avid listener of creative music. He listened to Streams several times and we talked on the phone and discussed the ideas behind the music and what I felt was compelling about the music. He did a very deep dive into the music to come up with his poetry.
I think the poetry draws the listener more into the sound itself because it creates a kind of resonance between what we are representing musically and the words that we may associate with what we are hearing. Every time I listen to the record, I stare at the words and it helps me center my attention on the music even more than if I was just listening. I greatly appreciate what he was able to add to the album.
PG: Do you see a particularly strong connection between poetry and music?
YU: Yeah, I think it goes back to the notion of the breath as Marilyn had mentioned earlier. That breath creates space and is a driving force of the music. I think that aspect of music is very similar to poetry. Both have rhythm and breath. The rhythm in poetry is not exactly the same as it is in metered music but there is still a connection with cadences and tempo. I think there is some parallel between what we do musically and how a poet approaches writing. The thought process or mode of operation are strikingly similar.
PG: Many people who encounter “free” music or creative music but haven’t listened to a lot of it come away with an expectation that there is a lot of sound in the music whether long runs of notes or a series of squeaks, squeals, and similar effects. Of course, those who have listened to those kinds of music understand that part of what makes it work is the nuance. Sometimes the music can be very tranquil and peaceful. That’s certainly the case on “Streams” or “Ma/Space.” How do you feel your shared interest in meditative practices influenced that emphasis on more peaceful sounds?
MC: I guess I don’t necessarily think about it in those terms while making music. Instead, I think about them more when musing on it afterward. Like Yuma said, space and silence and breathing and listening have all become more of a part of my playing than they used to be in the early days. And maybe part of that has to do with meditation or the meditative state of mind, not even necessarily a practice per se. But I think the entire album is very intelligent music. The compositions, the way Yuma plays, and the way we interact are all very much about the music, not egos or either of us trying to show off our skills.
YU: I agree that there is a lot of focus on the specific moment and trying to figure out what makes sense in that particular moment. There are natural musical forces at play when we are performing and having a conversation. We both adapt to it in a way that isn’t based on some preconceptions we may have about the music. That’s particularly the case when we are improvising. Instead, we are pushing whatever ideas and sounds are present in that specific moment. I think there’s undoubtedly a lot of intelligence or maybe awareness about what is going on in the music itself.
As far as the idea of “free” music or creative music or improvised music being dense and intense and Streams being a contrast to that, I think in our case maybe the use of silence and those moments are kind of the opposite end of the extreme. Of course, intense and dense expression is also a part of this record. It may not be as present as one may expect, based on some preconceptions they may have on free music, but it is there. “Iterations” is pretty dense and “Torrent” is very dense as well. I think those moments serve the quiet and the spacious moments because, in a way, the contrast allows the listener’s mind to fully perceive the spaciousness.
MC: Yeah, exactly. You wouldn’t perceive space without the opposite. But what really impressed me in listening to “Streams”, which is another one of my favorite pieces on the recording, is how many different things are happening. There is both density and space but the transitions between the two feel totally organic. When I’m listening to it, they don’t feel contrived. The different ideas move naturally between themselves.
PG: Even the songs flow into each other. Each is distinct but they also seem to transition naturally from the one before.
YU: Definitely.
MC: Yes.
PG: To circle back a little, was the intent with Streams always to capture your first time playing together?
YU: My original intent was actually just to get together and play with Marilyn, not to record an album. But there was one big problem with that idea – Marilyn doesn’t own a piano at her place. [laughing]. So, she suggested that if we wanted to play with her on a real piano instead of a digital keyboard, that we book Nevessa studio in Woodstock. I wasn’t too familiar with the studio. When I looked it up, I discovered it was also a recording studio. And so, I asked Marilyn, since we were already going to be in a recording studio, if we could hit the record button. [laughing]. That is kind of how the recording happened.
But at that time, in my mind, I wasn’t even sure it would turn into a record. I thought it was a possibility depending on how we clicked musically, but nothing was certain. Ultimately, I felt that we had recorded enough to warrant an album and decided to move ahead, checking in with Marilyn along the way, to make it into an album. Luckily Marilyn was open to the idea of putting it as an album.
Actually, we recorded a bunch of other things too which didn’t end up on Streams. There are two or three more compositions that we played and recorded but ended up not releasing. I kept thinking about the flow of the record itself and the experience of the listener. From those perspectives, I felt the current album was very strong without those additional songs. The other songs are very nice too but didn’t necessarily fit this album. If there are other opportunities to share them in some way, I am open to them.
PG: In addition to tenor sax and Bb clarinet, Yuma, you also play the contra-alto clarinet on Streams. What was behind the decision to include that fairly uncommon instrument?
YU: [Laughing]. That is a very good question. I ask myself that question sometimes [laughing]. The contra-alto clarinet is a very impractical instrument to be schlepping across New York City most of the time. [Laughing]. But I just fell in love with the instrument’s sound.
The first time I played the contra-alto clarinet was in a music store in Detroit. I found the instrument and started playing it and found that I loved the resonance of its frequencies. Your body also resonates with those frequencies and it felt good, physically, to play the instrument. I think the contra-alto clarinet has helped me slow down and be connected with the sound itself. I enjoy playing the instrument for that reason. I still play it, but around the time we recorded, I had only played it for a few months.
Adding the contra-alto clarinet also circles back to Anthony Braxton. Anthony has played low woodwind instruments and I’ve listened to a lot of his music. So, I think that sound was kind of in my ears as well. Although the contra-alto clarinet is an unusual instrument, I love playing it. It also helped interact with the low end of Marilyn’s sound on the piano in a way I wouldn’t have been able to with the tenor sax or Bb clarinet.
PG: Marilyn, at various points in the album – as you have done in other recordings – you reach into the piano to manipulate the strings. There’s a percussiveness to the sound produced and some percussionists have argued the piano is essentially a percussion instrument. What are your thoughts on the piano as an instrument?
MC: I think Cecil Taylor once described the piano as 88 drums. I’ve thought about that in the past but it’s interesting because I don’t think about the piano as a percussion instrument very often. You do have the hammers striking the strings. The only way you can sustain anything is through pedals. You are not able to change the dynamics of a note once you hit it. Those are all things common to percussion instruments. But at the same time, the piano is very melodic. In a certain way, the piano is like two instruments in one.
One may also see a percussiveness in the sounds I make when I reach into the piano. But the things I do inside the piano are not based on a choice to make the piano sound like a percussion ensemble but rather because sometimes when I’m playing with someone, I don’t hear a keyboard sound going with what they are doing. For instance, I almost never hear a keyboard in the music I make with the clarinetist David Rothenberg. And when I play with Tyshawn, I do a lot of things inside the piano.
But whether to emphasize the instrument’s percussiveness or melodicism depends on the situation. The piano has the capacity to be many things. I don’t think of the piano as a percussion instrument but more as an orchestral instrument. I can have a sound ring if I pluck the strings or if I hit the low strings with a mallet and put the pedal down. I’m fairly certain that is what I am doing on “Meditation.” It certainly sounds like it. And sometimes I like doing a sort of percussion duet with a drummer using sticks on various parts of the piano’s soundboard.
PG: Yuma, you mentioned that you first became interested in Marilyn’s music from her various duo recordings with people like Anthony Braxton or Joseph Jarman. When you were composing the pieces, did you have some of those recordings in mind or did you decide to just go forward and not think back on those works?
YU: That’s a good question. I think it’s a little both.
I didn’t write things for this project with Marilyn’s prior recordings in mind. Obviously, the music I brought in reflected things I thought would work very well with Marilyn.
Around the time we were recording in 2018, I had been listening to a lot of Marilyn’s music. I am sure my writing was influenced by some of her earlier recordings. I had mentioned Connecting Spirits with Joseph Jarman earlier and there is one track in particular on that album, “Structure I” that I greatly enjoyed. I’ve transcribed and have quoted it before when playing with my peers here in Brooklyn. So, the language of her prior recordings is definitely in the sound of my music. The sounds Marilyn has made in her prior recordings are part of my musical identity.
PG: To flip the question, Marilyn, you have done many different duo recordings and projects throughout your career thus far. What is it about the duo format that resonates with you?
MC: Well, sometimes they just happen. Busy schedules and other limitations sometimes push you into the duo format.
But the duo format can also be the best of both possible worlds. It gives the freedom of playing solo and the pleasure of playing with someone else. It gives the opportunity for very intense communication. Theoretically, when more people are playing, it means less ability to converse with any one person. When you’re playing with just one other person, it is like having a one-on-one conversation. There is a lot of freedom in it because there are only the two of you. I do love intimate settings – duos and trios – because of that opportunity.
PG: Do you see a linear line between those other projects and this one or do you see them as separate things at different times?
MC: They’re all part of a holographic whole. I don’t think often in linear terms. Of course, there are continuities that carry over from previous things that have been played over the years. But all of that is part of the hologram really. This project is just another spot in the hologram.
PG: Final question – what do you appreciate most about each other’s musical ideas or approaches?
YU: Marilyn is masterful at balancing many different dynamics within the music. She has an immense awareness of the collective dynamic in terms of what we are doing together and listening to each other’s sound and energy. But she is also very confident in her own voice and uses it to push through the collective conversation. This aspect makes it so we aren’t just listening and reacting to each other but also making our own statements. It encourages me to do the same thing while listening.
Marilyn also respects the compositions themselves. A few of the pieces on Streams, particularly “Iterations” and “Ma/Space”, had a musical idea on paper and she never abandoned those things. She keeps her ears open about the composition itself.
MC: Thanks. Well, you know, there’s no point in even having a composition if people are just going to go play it then go off and do whatever they want anyway, without even using an element from the composition.
What I would say about Yuma is that I respect his intelligence, his spirit, and his passion for the music. He also is a great listener of music. But part of what speaks to me is there not just being a musical connection but a personal one as well. Yuma is a very humble person with a great sense of humor. I respect and admire him as a person and felt an immediate connection with him.
Streams is now available on Not Two Records. It can be purchased from the label’s site or from Yuma’s Bandcamp page.
More information on Yuma can be found on his website. More information on Marilyn can be found on hers.
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