My son is leaving. He is on his way out of Utah and taking up residence in Boston while attending Berklee College of Music. To say I am both a mixture of happy and sad is an understatement. One of the things we have in common is our love of music. We both hear it passionately and at least one of us will most likely make a life of music. About 5 years ago, Stuart and I attended a Pat Metheny concert at Kingsbury Hall in Salt Lake City. Pat and his ensemble were debuting his new work "The Way Up" which is a 68 minutes piece in 4 movements. It is jazz, but classical, fusion, but latin, driving, but effortless (here is an excerpt of the introduction of the piece: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ecz3ykm_TRU
I did not know it at the time I attended the concert but Stuart and I were watching his future. Pat Metheny was the youngest professor to teach at Berklee and has a doctorate from there. The drummer, Antonio Sanchez, is a graduate of Berklee. Lyle Mays, Pat's longtime piano player/composer extraordinaire went to Boston to play with Metheny in the 70's and has been an artist in residence at Berklee ever since. The bassist Steve Rudby has also been an artist in residence at Berklee.
The essence of "The Way Up" is really quite a simple. It is the essence of life. After about 4-5 minutes of of driving rhythm played in multiple time signatures 3,4, 5,6,7, etc., Metheny introduces and plays what will be the main theme basically solo in a two against three feel. He finds the melody of the piece that will be played in various ways throughout the remainder of the next three movements. There is frenetic playing, moments of loudness and softness, chaos, pulsing beats in various syncopated times, variations of themes, counter-variations, thesis, antithesis, synthesis, confusion, sadness, melancholy, tranquility, explosions of emotion, technical mastery of complex equations without emotion (5 against 4 for example), noise and quiet, tension from playing over the bar and floating without gravity.
The true essence of musicianship is the essence of a mountain climb, a journey, a practice, a life's work. It is yes. It is no/know. It is spirit and it transcends you and the physical. At the level of a Metheny or a Sanchez, or a Mays or a Rudby, you are a Master. I suspect they would be the first to tell you, besides the endless amount of practice/climbing they have done, that they really cannot explain where the music resides because that place is sacred and they will not speak of it. At this level, space and time become meaningless. You may see them play it in the physical sense and you can certainly hear it, but as the Master you are inside it, you are it. You become a conduit. God or the Universe takes over. When you ask a Master what the essence of it is they can only point to it and say it is up there. They can only direct you toward the top of the mountain. The way up.
After a total literal climax in the third movement which leaves you tired and unable to think, the fourth and final movement built from previous themes eventually surrenders to a clear and uncluttered flowing stream of that simple melody that was found in the beginning--that melodic journey that had a theme and that found wings and began to soar--at times in double time or warp speed and at other times falling like honey, dripping slow. But somehow all the contrasts are the same. Two notes, three notes, endless notes, played endlessly. They become one. In the end, the melody is just played simply. From it's first introduction it has been through up and downs, has been torn apart and put back together again and again. It gets stuck, gets confused, gets lonely (only few journey to the top and this takes getting used to) and then it simply flows as it finds its way up. Find your melody Stuart and become.
