I’ll be removing the audio recordings in August 2013, so you have a few months to download any recordings that you may want to listen to again. I hope to keep enough of the recordings online to give a sense of the Lab’s activities, and, if you have any particular favorites, please let me know in the comments below.

Han-earl Park, April 11, 2011: ‘Lab report 2007-2011: signing-out as curator’

“As previously announced, after thirty-two events over three and a quarter years, I’ve stepped down as curator of Stet Lab as of February 2011.”

Corey Mwamba, December 9, 2010: ‘Lab report december 6th 2010: thank you!’

“It always helps if the other people are wanting to do the same thing and I think that happened—there were some lovely moments where things really came together. I was even relaxed enough to go on the drums—which as I am sure you’ll hear, was a mistake, but a relaxed mistake.”

Susan Geaney, December 6, 2010: ‘Lab report november 15th 2010: let the rant begin…’

“We improvisers dig the ego or can’t escape it. Like a game of snakes and ladders, we chop and change direction every 2–5″.”

Colm Pattwell, November 23, 2010: ‘Lab report october 11th and november 15th 2010: humming, buzzing’

“One thing I want to hear is someone just grooving on something limited or ‘standard’ for want of a better word. For all the different music being played at the lab, sometimes it just doesn’t sound that different to itself!”

Han-earl Park, April 26, 2010: ‘Lab report april 12th 2010: consequences of actions’

“A single quote… can have interesting and problematic consequences for interaction. The effectiveness of the quote—to be able to collapse and redirect and improvisation—is also what makes them hard to deal with.”

John Godfrey, April 23, 2010: ‘Lab report april 12th 2010: kudos’

Han-earl Park, April 7, 2010: ‘Lab report march 8th 2010: 3+1 questions’

“Is ‘success’ (however that’s defined) a meaningful idea in approaching (as listener or performer) improvisation?”

Ruti Lachs, February 7, 2010: ‘Lab report january 11th 2010: get together and make weird noises’

“I played some stuff that I couldn’t recognise as a tune, but the audience seemed to recognise it as valid, cos they clapped, and even laughed once or twice at the funny bits!”

Han-earl Park, January 26, 2010: ‘Lab report december 7th 2009: futzing’

“Neither ‘intentional’ (‘deliberate’ and ‘authorial’) nor ‘noise’ (e.g. the Cagian denial of agency). These things—‘noise’/‘intention’—exist on a line, and it isn’t so much about riding the border between them, but steeping off that line. We want to enter a space that is not about control, nor the lack of it, but about surprises, densities and irregularities; about relationships—differences and negotiations….”

Han-earl Park, November 21, 2009: ‘Lab report november 10th 2009: history and lineage’

“I want, at bare minimum, to be able to play—to have a relationship with the guitar that is technically accomplished—but I also want to want to be heard—that listeners/audiences would seek out my playing and my performances.”

Han-earl Park, November 2, 2009: ‘Lab report october 12th 2009: a conversation with eliza’

“Most of my work in the last few years has been in the jam session mold. People fly in, or I fly out, and there’s an ad-hoc meeting. What I miss is the band.”

Piaras Hoban, October 20, 2009: ‘Lab report October 12th 2009: be no shelter to these outrages’

“tap
“low end light a little
“the
“blow tap tap wind
“blow tap tap wind tap
“on”

Han-earl Park, July 3, 2009: ‘Lab report June 8th 2009: play different’

“I did have fun, but I think I also realized (remembered?) why I’d been avoiding this particular mode of interaction. It’s too easy; the choices are the most obvious. It’s like movies that, uncertain of the intelligence of their audience, get loaded with too much exposition.”

Veronica Tadman, June 13, 2009: ‘Lab report June 8th 2009: the alarm will sound if you don’t back away’

“So, why was it annoying me? I think it’s because I love control. (Why then am I interested in performing improvisation?) I wasn’t in control of the alarm: one could argue that I wasn’t in control of my fellow improvisers, but my argument to that is, if I wanted to I could have pulled the plug and prevented power. Also as we were an ensemble my input had a consequence on what happened (especially with what Piaras [Hoban] was doing because i was linked to his computer). Likewise he was in control of what happened with my input so it was almost like equilibrium.”

Han-earl Park, June 10, 2009: ‘Lab report May 11th 2009: parking your idiom’

“…I want the listening experience to be rich and interesting. If you’re sharp, you’d have caught it, made connections, and patted yourself on the back for being a clever listener; if not, well, no biggie, hopefully there’s enough complexity to provide ear-candy and (unintended) connections.”

Han-earl Park, May 25, 2009: ‘Lab report April 14th 2009: little instruments’

“My mentors include those who enroll gargantuan complex of musical resources and those who do not. How do I figure in this equation? There are, of course, pragmatic dimensions to this… but nonetheless what are the political/ideological implications of subscribing to one position?”

Ros Steer, April 1, 2009: ‘Lab report March 10th 2009: beginner bassist’s blathering blog’

“Leaving aside any personal taste in the aesthetics of sound, I think it’s more fun to perform together. I don’t mean that the performers should always be ‘in tune’ with each other or mimicking each other but just in tune to each other.”

Han-earl Park, March 29, 2009: ‘Lab report March 10th 2009: the possibility of failure’

“There’s a logic to the… abandonment of safety nets. Their absence can reveal who you are (and might be) without those prothesis. In engineering terms, by removing a component, you can test out the behavior of the rest of the (cyborgian) system…. What I discovered wasn’t exactly wonderful.”

Han-earl Park, February 23, 2009: ‘Lab report February 10th 2009: train wrecks and other fascinating disasters’

“I’m not sure what ‘opposite’ might mean in a musical-performance context (never mind one in which identities and relationships are being (re)negotiated in real-time). Isn’t saying that this (performance infected by agendas, etc.) is not improvisation, akin to saying that polemical or ideological disagreements are not democratic?”

Andrea Bonino, February 22, 2009: ‘Lab report February 10th 2009: on playing and being played’

“In the best moments when music really works, I still have the impression that music is coming through the musicians, and the musicians receive it and transmit it more or less like a radio set… think about that weird and beautiful sound that came out of your instrument almost by accident, and that you are trying to recreate with no success and you get the picture.”

Han-earl Park, January 30, 2009: ‘Lab report 2007-2009: how to run an improvised music club’

“Whether you would want to organize a regular improvised music event depends on what you’re looking to gain from it. Stet Lab, for me, is partly a long-term scene-building exercise; it is, at times, a place of research into the pedagogical, sociological and political dimensions of improvisative practice; an excuse to bring over practitioners whose work I am excited about; and a place to play.”

Han-earl Park, January 18, 2009: ‘Lab report January 12th 2009: healthy disrespect for the comfort zone’

“I’ve been prone to sports metaphors in the past, but Murray [Campbell] came up with a new one: table tennis. A great game of table tennis is not one that you score points, but in which all your resources—your body, your mind, your training—tells you one thing, but circumstances outwit you. You reach for the ball, but it ball heads in a completely different direction. You loose a point, but you go wow, how did that happen?”

Veronica Tadman, January 18, 2009: ‘Lab report January 12th 2009: detoxes really do work’

“I cannot quite figure out what was the key factor that made this months Lab stand out above the rest: Was it Murray [Campbell]? Was it the large crowd? The press release that constantly went on about a party?”

Han-earl Park, December 16, 2008: ‘Lab report December 9th 2008: when is a cliché a cliché’

“Are my gestures the same size? are my ideas-per-minute constant? I think, on a good day, on the microscopic level, my playing exhibits (complex / interesting / infuriating / contradictory) variation, but I fear that, on a macroscopic level, it’s often (simple / boring / predictable / coherent) uniformity that rules the day. Am I getting too comfortable in this space?”

Kevin Terry, November 24, 2008: ‘Lab report November 10th 2008: mindful auto-pilot nonsense’

“The aspiration for this month’s Lab (though I admit I decided on it less that five minutes before playing) was to play quasi-logically; pick a strategy and don’t budge… So I decide early on… to shadow Andrea [Bonino] and try to limit myself to playing while he isn’t. This is then complemented/complicated by playing pianissimo lyrically when he is playing. This is maintained throughout.”

Han-earl Park, November 20, 2008: ‘Lab report November 10th 2008: out of my depth’

“…By and large, if my adrenaline-choice-machine was doing anything, it was always looking for the nearest, most convenient route, avoiding interesting, circuitous options—the ones that lead off-the-edge into ugly-beutiful spaces and serendipitous-contradictory relationships.”

Veronica Tadman, November 19, 2008: ‘Lab report November 10th 2008: the rockstar wannabes’

“…As the only performer that doesn’t have an instrument that is material to hide behind, I often feel exposed and perhaps somewhat uncomfortable; this has consequently had a knock-on affect on my performance. However, not so much this month.”

Han-earl Park, October 16, 2008: ‘Lab report October 9th 2008: being paul desmond’

“Searching for a way to operate in this group, I was trying to reach Braxton’s Desmond in my musical personality (i.e. carefully considering many choices, but selectively executing only a small number of them). And that’s not a position I’ve tried to occupy in a long time…. It turned out, however, to be an interesting scheme for generating tactics in real-time, if not one that I feel compelled to return to.”

Tony O’Connor, July 30, 2008: ‘Lab report July 10th 2008: consequences of a noisy head’

“Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the insurmountable difficulties of the situation forced my mind to give up and get on with it…. The problem, I think, is that this type of improvisation should be an immediate response, and every time a thought gets in the way, it puts a filter between the event and the response. There are times in the first piece where this barrier breaks down, like the strange antiphony section, but mostly I was just quietly panicking along to my own internal monologue. ‘An E major? What are you THINKING!? Oh great, some more string noise, yeah, that’ll win them over… Muppet.’”

Han-earl Park, July 25, 2008: ‘Lab report July 10th 2008: fitting the square piece into that triangular hole’

“You know… that you’ve lost the game in improvisation when you’re preempting the music. You don’t want to be thinking this is how it should be, goddamnit, and I will fit that square piece into that triangular hole. Much more fruitful is to approach the problem almost like resource management: given our context, what can we do? given our current location, where can we go? given where we’ve been, how we’ve travelled, what exciting places could this route(s) lead us? This becomes a question of possibilities—what we can make of what we have (and who we are).”

Melanie L. Marshall, July 7, 2008: ‘Lab report June 12th 2008: thoughts of a newbie improviser’

“Now I know what goes through a newbie improviser’s head, or at least through this newbie’s head: sheer terror.”

Han-earl Park, June 26, 2008: ‘Lab report June 12th 2008: being the odd-one-out’

“Secondary problem with this strategy: although ‘having plenty of time to think about my re-entrance’ is indeed a luxury, like a lot of ‘prepared means’, they come with Improviser’s Hazard No. 697: exactly when would be a good time to act?”

Eoin Callery, June 17, 2008: ‘Lab report June 12th 2008: noisiest “hoedown”’

“A special mention must be made of the vocal talents of two heavily intoxicated eastern european (they never quite managed to explain exactly where they were from!) who entered the fray at various points. People may say that you could never perform something like Zappa’s ‘Lumpy Gravy’ live—well given the right balance of whatever they were on, they may decide to stage it yet….”

My thanks also to all the guest artists who have shared the stage with us, generously contributing to, and transforming, this practice. There’s too many names to mention, but I’d like to thank, in particular, two club-runners, Bruce Coates (who with Sarah O’Halloran and I kicked-off Stet Lab in November ’07) and Mike Hurley for their advice, cautionary tales and encouragement; to Murray Campbell, Franziska Schroeder and John Godfrey who took time out of their busy schedules, and stepped-up when others would/could not; and to Corey Mwamba, Ian Smith, Justin Yang and Alex Hawkins for encouraging words, and an unwavering belief in grass-roots music organizations. Special thanks to Paul Dunmall, Mark Sanders and Don Malone; heavy-hitters who believed in the Lab enough to participate with neophyte improvisers in what must be, by their standards, a low-key event.

Kudos to Jesse Ronneau for supporting improvised music, and the aims of the Lab in particular, during his time in Cork. I apologize for the many whose name I’ve not listed, but y’all have my warmest thanks, and my sincerest admiration for your contributions—we are a better space for it!

Of course, the biggest thanks go to everyone who participated as listener (and I am thinking in particular of the regulars who come every month!), and to those brave ones who jump-in the deep-end!

Signing-off as curator: Thanks, thanks, thanks and thanks to y’all!

BTW, some of my observations about running this space around the half-way point of my tenure as curator are at ‘Lab report 2007-2009: how to run an improvised music club’.

note: I’m plugging the performance here because Franziska’s appearance at the Lab in November ’08, and Bruce’s in December ’08 and in May ’09 rode on the back of this project.

I don’t subscribe to a silly ideology of some impossibly impartial, neutral, transcendental performance, free of tradition, history, identity. I’m not necessarily saying any one performance is going to be better than another (although I won’t strongly dispute such a claim), but some are, for me, more (for lack of better word) worthwhile than others; they were worth doing, and worth participating in, for reasons of demonstrating promising avenues of future research, or for putting into motion the results of such research. And I hope that the worthwhile performances / tactics / relationships / modes-of-interaction outweigh the others, or that the others lead, eventually, to worthwhile performances / tactics / relationships / modes-of-interaction.

I don’t want to confuse this sense of lack-of-‘worth’ with misfires that nonetheless do point to avenues of future research. Sometimes the less than satisfactory improvisations bring into relief approaches or contexts that you are not able (yet) to deal with (e.g. my playing with Franziska Schroeder at November ’08 Lab [read my report…]), or a performer highlights your relative lack of inventiveness or skill (e.g. Paul Dunmall blowing just about all of us off stage in February [read my report…]). Even if these are musically less than successful (whatever that means), all these are valuable and are worth participating in as a performer and as a listener. (An example of a performance that I wouldn’t have been entirely happy with as a listener would perhaps be the the duet with Bruce Coates in November ’07.)

Does that make any sense?

Okay, what does this have to do with the June Lab? As much as audience feedback was to the contrary, from my POV at least, my playing at that Lab felt like a retread. As much as the Stet Lab audience, prior to June, may not have heard Han-earl Park, the modal player, Han-earl Park, the practitioner of prepared guitar, or Han-earl Park, the deployer of imitative tactics, these all had a sense of, for me, been-there-done-that.

Also it didn’t offer (again, for me) enough in terms of complex relationships. As I wrote in regards to the previous month’s Lab:

I want the listening experience to be rich and interesting. If you’re sharp, you’d have caught it, made connections, and patted yourself on the back for being a clever listener; if not, well, no biggie, hopefully there’s enough complexity to provide ear-candy and (unintended) connections.

verbatim imitation

One thing I did during the June Lab that I haven’t been doing in a long time was (more or less) verbatim imitation.

I did have fun, but I think I also realized (remembered?) why I’d been avoiding this particular mode of interaction. It’s too easy; the choices are the most obvious. It’s like movies that, uncertain of the intelligence of their audience, get loaded with too much exposition. Hey, didn’tcha catch that? No problem, pal, I’ll tell ya again….

And again, as much as the post-performance feedback was positive, I would have liked the performance (the world onstage) to ask more of the audience. I would prefer to have the audience work to make connections and construct, I don’t care what you call it, ‘significance’ / ‘meaning’ / (projected) ‘intent.’ If I were a member of the audience, I’d want the connections to be more… oblique.

the prepared guitar

Yeah, yeah, yeah, the guitarist / banjo player sticks a couple of chop-sticks into the strings, woo-hoo. Yeah? boring. What’s the point?

I’m not dissing Frith or Rowe, but, seriously, who do I think I am. Am I able to get anything interesting out of this (beyond simple-minded novelty)? Who am I kidding?

And isn’t appealing to “simple-minded novelty” again like that movie that pitches at a less-than-intelligent audience?

audience participation

This was something that I’d wanted to see more of. I’d attempted to stage audience participation at the Lab with mixed results in the past, but it was great to have Juniper Hill’s more direct approach.

…but perhaps the chamber music vibe of the evening (established by Piaras Hoban, Veronica Tadman, et al.) conspired against a riotous on/off-stage engagement from really taking off.

…and I can’t play the banjo

Now that may have been the single most striking impulse to deploying a single tactic. Not having much of a repertoire on the banjo meant that, well, I had a pretty narrow line to walk. Do this, then that, uh, what do I have left, okay, that, that, and, finally, this. Not sure there’s much milage available for Han-earl Park, the banjo player, and necessity ain’t always the mother of invention, but that was, in terms of my playing, the most interesting tactic for the evening.

Stet Lab’s final event of the 2008/9 season

Monday, June 8th 2009

9:00 pm (doors: 8:45 pm)

Upstairs @ The Roundy [map…]
Castle Street
Cork, Ireland

€10 (€5)

Stet Lab’s final event of the 2008/9 season takes place on the 8th June 2009 at 9:00 pm, upstairs at The Roundy, Castle Street, Cork. Stet Lab again welcomes both regular and newcomers to the stage, bringing the familiar and unfamiliar together in a special season finale.

Curator and founder of Stet Lab, Han-earl Park (guitar) will perform with the exciting navigator of multiple improvisative traditions, Juniper Hill (voice and small instruments). Park has been described by the Computer Music Journal as “innovative” and by BBC – Collective as an “electro weirdo”, and has performed in Denmark, England, Ireland, The Netherlands, Scotland and the USA. Juniper Hill is a vocalist and multi-instrumentalist from Los Angeles and currently based in Cork. An ethnomusicologist who studies contemporary folk music, and the creativity and pedagogy of improvisation, Hill has been involved in free jazz and experimental music for many years and is especially interested in the use of voice in these mediums.

Newcomer to the Lab, Síofra Fitzgerald (flute) and Stet Lab regular, Kevin Terry (guitar) make up the other duo of the evening. With pre-composed parts written by Terry (with nods to sources as diverse as Anthony Braxton and Takemitsu Tōru), the performance will entail a clash of musical approaches—that of the classical-interpreter and that of the improviser—which does not resolve to a single whole but further shatters, fragments and divides.

Veronica Tadman (voice), another vocalist based in Cork, has been privileged to have performed alongside artists such as Paul Dunmall and Don Malone. She has guest curated Stet Lab, and this has given her the opportunity to perform with innovative new talent from Cork. This month, Veronica is collaborating with composer and member of the R.E.A.L. Ensemble, Piaras Hoban (laptop) who recently premiered his piece for soprano and electronics at the Sonic Arts Research Centre in Belfast. Hoban and Tadman will be joined by composer and the R.E.A.L. Ensemble founder, Francis Heery (electronics), and performer-theorist Áine Mangaoang (violin).

The event will begin at 9:00 pm (doors open at 8:45 pm) and entry is €10 (€5).

Stet Lab will return in October for more real-time, musical mutations and hybrids.

Looking back at the 2008/9 season…

…Stet Lab founder and curator, Han-earl Park says, “Stet Lab’s second year has been a triumph. We’ve been privileged to have hosted such a variety of improvising musicians: veteran of the international improvisation scene, Paul Dunmall, heavy-hitters such as Mark Sanders, the extraordinary Franziska Schroeder, the dramatic Katie O’Looney, the virtuoso Jamie Smith, and the… indescribable Jonny Marks. It’s also been a time to renew musical relationships with the mutant fiddle-playing of Murray Campbell, and the Cornelius-Cardew-meets-Joe-Harriott sound world of Bruce Coates.

“And we’ve witnessed the real burgeoning of young, local improvisers. The year has been a success beyond what we could have hoped for when we entered year two back in November, and I look forward to musical interactions above-and-beyond when we return in October.”

I think I did some pretty damn good playing on December 9th. Nothing life changing perhaps, but I think it was a reasonable contrast my contribution to October and November’s Labs. But here’s the question: how do I know when I’m getting a little too… complacent is the wrong word—comfortable?

Let me clarify this: I’m not talking about the fact that ‘sure you’re feeling sick?’ kicked-off with one of my standard gambits (a small interval flutter that I half stole from Parker and half stole from Ligeti). I know from following, say, George E Lewis’ playing over the years that where you start can be as trivial as you make it (as long, of course, as you end up somewhere interesting).

Anyway, how much of these musico-personal clichés are really a hindrance? Take, for example, the bowed-swell-slide that opens ‘has “it” happened?’. The slide goes up in pitch rather than down. I don’t know if I ever start one of those going down. Not really a problem though is it? certainly not one that I’m going to lose sleep over. I’ll take it as a quirk. Ornette, for example, always sounds like Ornette; I’m not going to fool myself into thinking that I have a transcendental musical personality.

Actually, there is one habit of mine that I will be happy to be rid of. That damp-string-yank-neck-swell whump can go (you can hear it at around the 3:44 mark on ‘i read many literary forms’). It’s a lazy (pointless in its current form) trick and I’m tired of hearing it.

I’m also not talking about ‘shaping’ or ‘form’. I think ‘it’s a miracle (like Moses)’, for example, has a very captivating, moment-by-moment geometry—a result of real-time (re)negotiations and (re)configurations.

Yet I’m reminded of Mats Gustafsson’s recent performance with The Thing. Why are all the phrases the same length? why are all the ideas of the same quanta?

Things I had to watch out for in the December Lab: for whatever reason, Bruce Coates and I shared the same rhythm. It would have been faaar too easy to enter and exit in (boring, homogenous) sync. For a large part of the first set (‘it’s a miracle…’ and ‘i read many literary forms’) I spent my time staying out of Sarah O’Halloran’s way, and trying not to overlap too much with Bruce. This was trickier than it might sound since I feel reasonably familiar with Bruce’s sound (not surprising considering that we’ve played together quite a bit over the last 12+ months, and I’ve had time to study his playing a bit).

Aside: from my vantage point, Sarah seemed to navigate (create?) her own space without difficulty. Wonder if it felt like that was the case from her side?

And that’s my issue with my playing at this month’s Lab: are my gestures the same size? are my ideas-per-minute constant? I think, on a good day, on the microscopic level, my playing exhibits (complex / interesting / infuriating / contradictory) variation, but I fear that, on a macroscopic level, it’s often (simple / boring / predictable / coherent) uniformity that rules the day. Am I getting too comfortable in this space?

…And am I right in guessing that this performance was a kind of last hurrah before the (Franziska-driven) change?

I don’t, however, want to end on that note: we played well—heck, some of the strongest Stet Lab moments happened this month—and I’m happily listening to these on my iPod. There’s a good rapport between Bruce and I; Neil O’Loghlen’s addition made certain surprising group dynamics available; and Sarah, as I said before, was funny as hell.

The aspiration for this month’s Lab (though I admit I decided on it less that five minutes before playing) was to play quasi-logically; pick a strategy and don’t budge… So I decide early on (‘do you need me here…’) to shadow Andrea and try to limit myself to playing while he isn’t. This is then complemented/complicated by playing pianissimo lyrically when he is playing. This is maintained throughout.

The second (‘you might, just…’) went in similar fashion with me deciding on a strategy early on and sticking to it like crazy. In the third (‘we don’t know…’) I gave up on rational thought when I figured out it was just Andrea and myself as opposed to the quartet of the previous two ditties (kind of like when the cartoon coyote looks down to find that the cliff ended a couple feet back).

Still though, two out of three isn’t bad.

It’s interesting for me to read Han’s descriptions of his thought processes during his improvisations with Franziska. I can’t imagine reasoning like that on the fly. Maybe it is because I tend to rely on my focal attention as opposed to my global/general attention?

And so, for December’s Lab do I push my luck and maybe try to juggle two strategies? Or do I throw caution to the wind and go for the intuitive thing?

But those security blankets—tactics, strategies and lexicons—seem now to be liabilities.

A little background: since a set of gigs in late-2007 with Murray Campbell, I’ve pretty much retired the devil-on-my-shoulder improviser. Prior to this, I’d been a more (for lack of better word) ‘careful’ improviser; one that thinks first, thinks second, thinks third, and only then, after careful consideration, maybe (and just maybe) acts.

Although it was with those performances with Murray that I found this other way of improvising, it emerged, in retrospect, as a solution to problems flagged up at another musical encounter in 2007.

How do you evolve as an improviser? Under what conditions do practice and approach mutate? If change is a response to the environment, magic is just ’round the corner since, this month, I was out of my league—out of my depth.

the adrenalin response

In his report on the July Lab, Tony O’Connor wrote that

…Improvisation should be an immediate response, and every time a thought gets in the way, it puts a filter between the event and the response.

What Tony called the ‘immediate response’, Franziska Schroeder terms the ‘adrenalin response’—the decisions you make, the paths you take, during heat-of-the-moment, seat-of-your-pants, real-time performance. This is the response, since those performances with Murray last year, that I’ve come to rely upon. I’ve also come to (and red lights are flashing even as I type this word) expect the resultant choices to be dramatic, imaginative, circuitous and lateral-thinking.

However, on November 10th, in the company of Franziska, this response was exactly what turned out to be a liability.

During the duets with Franziska, I was flummoxed by the context and content—by Franziska’s playing. My adrenalin responses tended towards obvious choices, and the devil-on-my-shoulder would return to say ‘no, no, no, no, that’s a dumb choice, you can’t do that!’ The devil would slow me down, but perhaps more worryingly the number of options would shrink. At various junctures during the performance, I would compute a set of possible routes, but the devil would discount this and that (“that’s obvious, don’t do it; that’s naive, you can’t do that…”), leading to an ever diminishing set of choices. I could almost see doors shut one by one.

It’s ironic that the thing that apparently caught Tony off guard in July was that I was “playing melodies” because what threw me was Franziska’s lines. Lines reach into areas of my playing that I’ve neglected, and I was too unsure of my skills to make an excursion into that territory. Questions that popped into my head during the performance:

How do (should? can?) I even parse that?
How do I make (il)logical translations / transmutations / transformations that can (be made to) make sense within my own lexicon?

It’s no coincidence that, for me, my best contribution to the performance occur when the line rested for a spectral-dynamo-plus-percussion encounter (‘warmed me up…’). Although, if I take a step back, ‘doesn’t have broken glass on the floor’ is probably a more successful improvisation—less safe, not as easy, more of a troublemaker.

But, by and large, if my adrenaline-choice-machine was doing anything, it was always looking for the nearest, most convenient route, avoiding interesting, circuitous options—the ones that lead off-the-edge into ugly-beutiful spaces and serendipitous-contradictory relationships.

playing (and listening) differently

Franziska showed me, beyond a doubt, what options were not available to me.

For me, this is all good: now I need to go find other doors.

After all, the floundering and stumbles of a year ago led, overtime, to a new approach, and I’m optimistic that these new challenges will lead to something else. I very much doubt the return of the devil-on-my-shoulder improviser, but I expect to be playing (and listening) differently in future. I know it will take time to patch up the holes, to lay the groundwork for approaching new choices, and to reinvent and abandon tactics (habits?), but if past experience is anything to go by, in the coming weeks, I’ll emerge from this a different player.

…And that’s my little note of thanks to our guest improviser-saxophonist-theorist.

an unanswered question & a note of thanks

Given my difficulties at the last event, how come I was happily playing lines in a duet with Marian Murray in May (‘don’t eat the red acid!’)? What was so different then?

A personal note of thanks to Kevin Terry and Veronica Tadman for the help running the last few Stet Lab events (putting up posters, flyering, managing the door, setting up the stage, writing press releases, etc). November’s Lab, in particular, could not have happened without them.

I have performed at several of the Stet Lab evenings and as the only performer that doesn’t have an instrument that is material to hide behind, I often feel exposed and perhaps somewhat uncomfortable; this has consequently had a knock-on affect on my performance. However, not so much this month.

When asked to form the ‘house band’ for November’s Lab I was honoured and left with a task that I had to be tactful with. What with my old band members dispersed around the world I had to delve into the fresh bag of improvisers that Cork has to offer. As I had found working with Han and Jesse a fun, fruitful experience in October, I figured why not go for a similar line up? (It is interesting to note that in the past I have found it difficult to work with guitar players—nothing at all to do with my diva-ish background!) Therefore, I called upon my fellow improviser Barry who I knew had similar ideas and sensitive approach to improv and he pointed me in the direction of Paul.

Thankfully for me this was a great tactic: I knew from the first moment the three of us met to ‘practise’ that we would get on like a house on fire. We all seemed to respect each other as musicians and appeared to know when to back off before we intruded too much on each others space. Perhaps this sounds rather Brady Bunchesque because sometimes a bit of friction and roughness does add spice to improvisation; however, as I am slightly out of practise and wanted my first ‘independent’ pursuit to be successful I wanted to test the boundaries before I entered into ‘extreme improv.’ (We all have to start somewhere!)

Yes I did hold back, probably due to nerves, but this month I really made an effort to let go—something that I do find difficult in this form of performing—and I am glad that I did because the post-performance high was something that I had almost forgotten the feel of. I feel that the success of November’s Stet Lab will really have a positive affect on my future performance.