Ken Field
Web Site
August 2000

"I'm generally inspired by people who are doing creative work that they love. I'm more interested in people who are creative and are doing something new than in people who are financially successful. But I do think it is important to be creative and new in ways that allow your work to reach, rather than alienate, the general public."

Photo © Claire Folger

By Allen Huotari

Although most musicians despise having their work categorized, labeled, or otherwise classified, the simple fact would appear to be that the majority of music produced today deserves to fall between the stylistic barriers that have been erected (albeit artificially) over the years.

This is not to imply, as many have suggested, that the general state of music is in innovative decline or that true creativity and originality is in imminent demise. While it cannot be disputed that many musicians receive far more admiration (whether critical or economical) than they deserve, it should also be suggested that the sheer number of musicians releasing “product” (apologies for the use of a marketing term here) inevitably results in a creeping homogeneity. This can be applied across genres (rock, classical, jazz, country, etc.) as well as philosophical or aesthetic approaches (from “popular” to “experimental/radical”)

Of course, there are musicians who defy categorization, but who choose to do so by genre hopping (double apologies for use of a pseudo-critical term) which merely affects a transition from one bin to another.

In the distinct minority are those musicians who are honestly and steadfastly seeking their own paths. Sometimes the approach is to extrapolate from what has occurred or presently exists, twisting and turning it in new directions in the here and now. Alternatively, the method could be to theorize or speculate upon some future, distant artistic possibility and to drag it back into the here and now. Either of these ways successfully eludes musical pigeonholing.

But often the most satisfying and stimulating results emerge from those musicians persistent enough to innovate through interpolation, i.e., to draw upon multiple musical sources from here, now, and then in order to create new musics (without being derivative). This is quite different from being “eclectic” which seems to imply that elements are borrowed and subsequently proportioned in a variety of ways. Instead the overall approach described here not only fills in the gaps or the cracks in the musical walls, floors, and ceilings that have provided artistic confinement for some and opportunity for others, but also offers a fulfilling interstitial alternative to those listeners who crave new sounds.

Saxophonist/composer/improviser Ken Field is definitely one of these musicians. Although best known as a member of the “electrified modern music ensemble” Birdsongs of the Mesozoic (hey, it’s okay folks, I snipped that label from his website), Mr. Field has also released two highly respected solo recordings, SUBTERRANEA (O.O. Discs, 1996) and PICTURES OF MOTION (sfz Recordings, 1999). The former consists primarily of multi-tracked saxophone improvisations recorded in an underground chamber in New Mexico. The latter continues the use of multi-tracking but largely to create the sensation of a saxophone ensemble being backed by a rhythm section. Furthermore, PICTURES OF MOTION “integrates elements of ambient, hiphop, minimalism, swing, acid, improv, and even Balkan processional music” and also includes two of Mr. Field's compositions for the popular children’s show Sesame Street (but don’t think that you’re getting “kiddie music” here !)

In reviewing PICTURES OF MOTION, All About Jazz contributor Mark Corroto writes "Field's brilliance as a composer is his ability to pass off high-minded composition through a thoroughly accessible sound...The closest musical comparison I could find to Field's concept of cultural jamming would be that of Rahsaan Roland Kirk."

April 2000 saw the release of TOKYO IN F (Sublingual Records), a live document of a fully improvised concert from August 1998 which found Mr. Field in collaboration with three Japanese musicians (Katsui Yuji – violin, Kido Natsuki – guitar, Shimizu Kazuto – piano) that he had met merely hours before. Although language differences proved to be a natural constraint to conventional (verbal) communication, the ensuing musical (aural) communication proves to astound at the very least. Most impressive is the diversity of styles that are woven into a freely improvised session thus providing evidence that spontaneous composition need not be harsh or strident but is equally capable of melody, harmony, rhythm, and idiomatic context.

All About Jazz contributor Nils Jacobson has a similar perspective on TOKYO IN F in writing: “…this live record oozes with spontaneity and a constant sense of discovery. Combining the restrained sound of chamber music with the constant fluxology of free jazz, the quartet makes creative use of its fresh instrumentation…Appearing throughout the record are snippets of bluegrass and blues and various other genres. What distinguishes Tokyo in F from other freely improvised records is its range of emotive expression, smoothly varying from moments of quiet melodicism to outbursts of excited frenzy. This, combined with the obvious sensitivity of expression among the players, helps make the recording an unusually satisfying document--as well as a particularly accessible piece for the listener.”

AAJ Modern Jazz Editor Glenn Astarita concurs in writing of TOKYO IN F (see this month’s Reviews): “…the musicians articulate minimalist and contemporary classical-like recitals amid playful dialogue, shrewd utilization of space, and weaving fabrics of sound that often appear fragile or delicate…the musicians heighten the intensity as they artfully merge chamber-esque incantations with semi-chaotic free jazz improvisation…the music seems to melt before our ears as if the two disparate styles caused some sort of chemical reaction…”

To help commemorate the release of TOKYO IN F, All About Jazz is pleased to present the following interview with Ken Field, which was conducted via e-mail during June 2000.

Special thanks to Brian Coleman of Braithwaite and Katz Communications in facilitating this interview and for continued support of All About Jazz.

For further information (including detailed biography, discography, and much more) please refer to the Ken Field web page at: http://fieldk.home.att.net

ALL ABOUT JAZZ: Would you please tell the AAJ readers about where you were born, raised, and what your earliest musical memories are?

KEN FIELD: I was born in Red Bank, NJ, Count Basie's hometown, and grew up in nearby Tinton Falls (which was then called New Shrewsbury). This area was pretty dead when I was there, but since I left after high school, it has become quite a happening scene. I learned clarinet starting in 4th grade. My parents didn't have any particular interest in music (my dad rarely listened to music, though my mom did play mandolin as a kid in NYC), but they encouraged my older sister and I to take up instruments in grade school; she chose flute and I chose clarinet. They got me private lessons with Fred Caruso, who was the high school music teacher at the time. He was very good, and when I looked back at some of my early lessons, I see that he even gave me some theory back then, but I didn't remember much. He later went on to produce some major motion pictures, and some not-so-major ones, like the Pac-Man Movie...

When I first started playing, and then through grade school and high school, I really only knew how to read notes from a page; I didn't know anything about improvisation. I got to be pretty good at reading, and my clarinet technique was reasonable. But there was a guy in my class named Jackie LeRoy who could improvise on clarinet, and I recall being very struck by that ability - I didn't have any idea how he did it, nor did he tell me.

I did practice a lot, and I remember my mother having to call me down to dinner several times, to which I kept yelling "be down in a minute!" while I tried to compulsively finish whatever exercise I was working on. I still do that, and it drives my wife nuts.

AAJ: Was there any pivotal moment where you decided (or discovered) that you simply had to become a musician? Please elaborate.

KF: I played music through grade school and high school, and in high school I dabbled a little with the tenor sax when the high school band needed someone for that instrument. I fooled around a little with my sister's flute as well. But I still was only reading notes on a page.

Early in my freshman year at college (Brown University in Providence), where I majored in physics, and then in computer science, I was chasing a friend down the dorm hall when he pulled a swinging door shut behind him, and I crashed into it, destroying one of my front top teeth. I looked a lot like the guy from Mad Magazine. I got the tooth capped, but clarinet playing, which puts outward pressure on the top front teeth, was a problem. I started playing flute, and ended up working at the university coffee house and jamming with the folk and blues musicians who would play there. This is when I slowly learned how to improvise, starting with blues scales and pentatonics. And probably when I realized that music would be a permanent part of my life (though I think that I never really thought about it - it just was).

AAJ: As follow up, what led you to choose the saxophone as instrument of choice?

KF: In my junior year, I was introduced to some local musicians who were into Coltrane, Weather Report, McCoy Tyner, etc, and I ended up playing flute with them in a group called Forecast. A friend was selling his old student Conn alto sax, so I bought it and started to teach myself, and play it with the group. Since the sax embouchure essentially pushes *up* (not *out*) on the top front teeth, this worked ok with my capped tooth.

I continued to play with them after I graduated and went to work in the computer industry. There, a bass player/computer guy named Bill DiMarco suggested that I should contact Joe Viola at Berklee and see about going up one day a week for private lessons, which I did. I later left this job on an "educational" leave of absence to study full-time at Berklee for 2 years.

AAJ: Your bio would seem to indicate an extensive musical education. What lessons were learned in your earlier training (prior to Berklee) that you still apply in your career?

KF: Probably the biggest and best lesson was to enjoy practice time. I also learned how to read music very well, and I'm still a very good sight reader. This has been a tremendous help to me.

AAJ: Many musicians have mixed feelings about their experiences at Berklee. How would you summarize the time you spent there?

KF: Berklee was a very good thing for me. I learned a lot of technical things relating to the horn and to theory that were crucial to my being able to function musically in a variety of professional situations. I didn't learn to be creative at Berklee, but I learned enough to be able to not embarrass myself playing out, which in turn gave me the confidence to experiment in front of other musicians and audiences. And Berklee was where I studied with Joe Viola, Andy McGhee, and other great teachers, and where I learned to go to Emilio Lyons for repair and maintenance of my horns. I still rely only on Emilio for all my repair work.

AAJ: What have you learned from Messrs. Banacos and Bergonzi that has proven to be the most useful?

KF: Charlie Banacos is a brilliant teacher, of course. He gave me a set of exercises that I could spend the rest of my life working on. But I think the best thing he did for me was to say, one day, that I had an original approach, and that he thought he'd be hearing from me some day. I assumed that he said that to all his students, but it had a great impact on me in any case.

Jerry Bergonzi is one of the great tenor players of all time, and my brief time studying with him was spent mostly with patterns and solo transcriptions. I think that both of them reinforced what I had already known, that I needed to incorporate more chromaticism in my playing, and they gave me tools to help me do so.

AAJ: Who would you cite as influences and inspirations and why? (these can include "non-musical" sources)

KF: I'm probably mostly influenced by the other musicians I play with. Joining the group Birdsongs of the Mesozoic in 1989 was quite an ear-opener for me, and got me into the whole minimalist and new music scene a bit, which was something I knew nothing about prior to joining them. I spent some important time playing with a Senegalese band in Boston run by Ibrahima Camara, a great Senegalese drummer, and my wife, animator Karen Aqua, has turned me on to lots of great music from around the world. I think my most important listening experience was hearing Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, the late Pakistani Qawwali vocalist, at an amazing concert at Sanders Theater in Cambridge several years ago.

I'm generally inspired by people who are doing creative work that they love. I'm more interested in people who are creative and are doing something new than in people who are financially successful. But I do think it is important to be creative and new in ways that allow your work to reach, rather than alienate, the general public. I think that Peter Gabriel is one artist who has done creative music in a context that allows him to reach "regular" people. There are many other examples.

AAJ: How often do you practice now and for how long?

KF: I aim for 3 hours a day. On a great day I have time to even get in some time on flute and soprano sax. But usually I only have time for alto sax. On a busy day, I'm usually limited to an hour or so.

AAJ: Do you have any tips or tricks for "enjoying" practice time?

KF: One important factor is to find a good-sounding room to practice in, one with high ceilings and some natural reverb. For an acoustic instrument like saxophone, it is much easier to enjoy practicing when the horn really *sounds* good. And of course practicing makes it sound even better, hopefully.

AAJ: Do you ever force yourself to practice when you really don't feel like it? If so, how do you motivate yourself?

KF: I've found that I really miss my practice time on days when for some reason I can't play at all. It's kind of like my time to be alone, and practicing is sort of like meditation for me. Not to mention that my playing suffers when I don't practice.

AAJ: Is there anything in your scientific training that has proven invaluable in your musical career? Please elaborate.

KF: People often say that musicians are generally good at math. I guess it might work the other way as well. A lot of music theory is very mathematical. But I've always kept my music separate from my computer work; I never really got into applying my digital signal processing background to digital music processing, for example. I just like playing horn better than programming, I guess.

AAJ: Although techniques of performance, composition and improvisation can be taught, do you feel that intangibles such as enhancements to creativity or imaginative prowess can be taught? If so, how?

KF: I think it is possible to encourage people to be creative, to explore, to take risks. In many cases, teachers do just the opposite. But a good teacher will push students in the direction of creativity and independent thinking (in any subject, not only in the arts). If creativity can't be *taught*, it can certainly be *encouraged*.

AAJ: In another interview you mention that you had not heard the music of Birdsongs of the Mesozoic prior to joining them. That being the case, what were the circumstances surrounding your becoming a member of BotM?

KF: I had been a member of a Boston-based psychedelic funk band called Skin. We were moderately popular, and pretty interesting. So I knew many of the people in the music scene in Boston through that, and just from parties and social circles. I had met Martin Swope, the original Birdsongs guitarist, through some mutual friends, and I knew Roger Miller, who basically started the group, a bit from here and there.

Anyway, Skin released an LP in about 1988, and then immediately broke up, which was sort of the way it seemed to work back then. We did our final gig as an in-store at Tower Records to try to get rid of some of the LPs. As I was loading my gear out from that gig, I happened to run into Roger on the street. He asked what I was up to, I told him that I just played my last gig with Skin, and he said "Hmmm, do you read music?" Roger had actually left the group about a year earlier, and was replaced by Steve Adams, a sax player. Steve was at that point leaving Birdsongs to move to San Francisco to join the Rova Sax Quartet (which he is still with). Even though Roger wasn't with Birdsongs anymore, he was still a close friend to Erik, Rick, and Martin, so he knew what was up.

I followed up with Martin, did one audition, and joined the band. We almost immediately recorded the LP "Faultline", which both Steve and I play on, and then we went on a 30-date east coast and Canadian tour, which was a great way to quickly learn the material!

AAJ: Do you have a favorite BotM recording (or a favorite single tune)? If so, what is it and why?

KF: I'm very fond, of course, of our newest CD, "Petrophonics", which will be out in September on Cuneiform. I think it's the best Birdsongs recording I've participated in. In terms of earlier work, I really like Rick Scott's song "Maybe I Will", which is on "Faultline". It is based in its entirety on the use of a four-note scale, and, amazingly, considering this constraint, it works wonderfully.

AAJ: You mention above that your work with BotM has exposed you to musics that you hadn't been acquainted with prior to BotM. Is there anything that you can specifically point to, in working with BotM, that has profoundly and irrevocably changed how you play, compose, or listen? If so, please provide details.

KF: Prior to joining Birdsongs, I was mostly into funk, reggae, and some R&B. I liked things that had a bit of an edge to them, but I was still pretty mainstream. Birdsongs opened my ears up to an entirely different world of music, including minimalist, contemporary classical, and new music styles. But most of all, I think, it showed me where some of the between-style cracks were, and that's where my own music has fallen pretty consistently: between the stylistic cracks.

AAJ: What is a Cleveland slide saxoprano?

KF: Once when Birdsongs was on it's way to one of our three tours of Hawaii (still hard to believe...), we stopped in Portland, OR to play at a club called Satyricon, opening for a band called Smegma (hard to believe I actually *remember* this stuff... Between sets there was an art performance piece where they set a garbage can on fire. In the middle of the club...). Anyway, we wandered around town a little bit, and found ourselves at Portland Music's woodwind annex, which had a bunch of very cool rare instruments, like one of the white plastic Grafton alto saxophones that Charlie Parker posed with. The Cleveland slide saxoprano was a strange beast that was about the shape of a soprano, but with a slit along the length of it. The slit could be covered progressively by a length of leather. You'd basically slide your finger up and down the leather to close varying amounts of the slit, thereby shortening or lengthening the acoustic tube. It was very hard to play musically, but I managed to convince the owner of Portland Music to rent it to me, and I used it to make some sonic textural effects on our CD "Dancing on A'A".

AAJ: Since "Subterranea" was recorded in an underground cavern, was the music of Deep Listening an influence to you? Why or why not?

KF: I really love the Deep Listening recordings I've heard of Pauline Oliveros and Stuart Dempster. And though I'm not really familiar with the Deep Listening philosophy, I certainly believe in my own version, which involves maybe a focus on sound and sonic texture rather than notes, and which stresses the importance of the acoustical environment to the musician as well as to the audience. That being said, I did not record "Subterranea" with any intent of it being connected to the Deep Listening work, nor was there any connection in my own brain. I just happened to come across the extremely interesting underground space (man-made rooms, not a cavern exactly), and was drawn to the idea of using it to record due to its remarkable acoustic properties. I had been thinking about putting together a solo CD, and had actually been looking for a producer in Boston, but this happenstance during a visit to New Mexico allowed me to self-record and self-produce the disc.

AAJ: Was "Pictures of Motion" conceived as a whole? Or was this an instance of basically realizing that you had enough tunes to make an album?

KF: Most of the pieces on "PoM" were composed during a Composer-in-Residence grant at the Ucross Foundation in Wyoming, awarded based on my work on "Subterranea". One interesting aspect for me was that I composed these pieces at the piano, vs. the approach for "Subterranea" which was basically to improvise at the time of the recording, one layer at a time. So I suppose it would be fair to say that "PoM" was conceived as a whole. Though there were some additional pieces that I had written for Sesame Street that I included on the disc, and even a few pieces that I had recorded during a return visit to the underground rooms in New Mexico.

AAJ: As follow up, PoM is remarkably and extraordinarily eclectic. But the title itself tends to suggest that there is nevertheless an underlying theme. If possible, could you please elaborate? (perhaps explain the title?)

KF: I hope that my compositional style, and the basic instrumentation of multiple alto saxophones (sometimes with rhythm section, sometimes without) helps to unify the disc. In terms of an underlying theme based on the title, no. I generally do not title my pieces (or my CDs) in advance. Most of these pieces had titles like "Sketch 8" until well after they were recorded. The CD title, "Pictures of Motion", comes from the title of the first piece on the CD. I originally thought that it sounded like a motion picture soundtrack piece, so I played with those words and came up with "Pictures of Motion", which I liked enough to use for the CD title. To me, this title implies a series of snapshots capturing the activities of life - I mean, really life implies motion, both physical and mental/spiritual.

One interesting thing was that I had hoped to use some photography by Gunnar Plake on the cover. Gunnar was an Artist-in-Residence at Ucross while I was there, and did very beautiful large-scale photographs where he moved the camera as he took the shot. I thought about using some of his work well before I chose the CD title, but his photographs really are literally pictures of the motion of his camera, so the CD title works alarmingly well in that respect also.

AAJ: What aspect of making PoM was the most fun? What was the most difficult? What have you learned that you will carry forward to your next recording?

KF: It was a thrill for me to have the opportunity to record much of this disc in Seattle with Amy Denio, Jessica Lurie, and Will Dowd. Amy in particular has been a long-time inspiration to me. She connected me with Jessica and Will, and we performed live at Seattle's Bumbershoot festival before going into Eric Forrey's Vagrant Records studio to record.

The most difficult thing was getting permission from the NPR lawyers to include my arrangement of the All Things Considered theme. I eventually learned at the last minute that I was not going to be permitted to do so, at which point I re-recorded a new melody with my reharmonization and called it "Some Things Reconsidered".

I should also take this opportunity to mention the other great friends and musicians who helped me on this CD: drummers Eric Paull and Ethan Meyer, and bassists John Styklunas and Mike Rivard.

AAJ: Another recent release for you is an improvisational recording made with three Japanese musicians entitled "Tokyo in F". What were the circumstances that led to this recording?

KF: My wife, animator Karen Aqua, was invited to attend the Hiroshima International Animation Festival, where her film "Ground Zero/Sacred Ground" was being screened. (I did the music for this film.) I joined her for the trip, and prior to leaving Boston, asked some friends if there were any music people I should look up while I was in Japan. Steve Feigenbaum from Cuneiform Records suggested several people, among them Hiroshi Masuda, who is a music fan and promoter in Tokyo. Hiroshi was familiar with my work with Birdsongs of the Mesozoic, and offered to set up a concert for me. He selected several musicians, violinist Katsui Yuji and guitarist Kido Natsuki, from the group Bondage Fruit, which Hiroshi manages, along with pianist Shimizu Kazuto, and he booked a date at the Tokyo club "In F". It was a totally improvised concert. I asked Hiroshi if he could arrange to record the performance, which he did using his portable DAT recorder. I did not get around to listening to the recording for some time after I returned home, but gave it to Jonathan LaMaster, who runs Sublingual Records. Jonathan was very excited about releasing it on his label, at which point I spent some time with it, mastered it (adding a small amount of equalization and ambience to compensate for deficiencies in the room acoustics), and came up with a cover design. I'm very proud of and happy with this CD.

AAJ: As follow up, what do you feel is the most distinguishing or distinctive aspect of this recording?

KF: I think it often sounds composed, which is remarkable considering that it was totally improvised by me and three musicians whom I had never met nor played with. I attribute the quality of the music largely to the talent and musicianship of Katsui, Kido, and Shimizu.

AAJ: At the risk of oversimplifying the process, I want to ask you some questions about composing (or improvising) for soundtracks. In general, a soundtrack should complement, and not distract from, the visual experience. Nevertheless, for the musician(s) creating the music, it is desirable that the music be able stand on it's own artistic merit. Assuming you agree with the preceding assumptions, have you adopted any common or unifying approach towards soundtrack work? Or does the identity of each project dictate it's own particular aesthetic? Please elaborate.

KF: I used to totally subscribe to the idea that a soundtrack should not distract the audience from the visuals. But now I'm not so sure. I think that the ideal for me is for them to function as more or less even partners. I no longer think it is so important for the soundtrack to be subservient to the visuals in every case. Of course, as you suggest, every project is different. At the very least, I think that soundtrack music should be able to stand up to listening without the visuals, and, in fact, the visuals should ideally remain interesting without sound.

AAJ: Specifically in reference to your work in composing for Sesame Street, what is the most challenging or demanding aspect of composing for this environment?

KF: Actually, my work for Sesame Street is quite fun. I basically write music that I might write on my own, and the people at Sesame Street have indicated that they like that I don't write "down" to the young listeners. The hardest part, I guess, is that sometimes the visuals require odd time signatures or uneven beats thrown in here and there, which is not something I normally do very often in my own music.

AAJ: I guess I assumed that composing for Sesame Street might be "challenging or demanding" from the standpoint that a number of constraints would be placed upon your music (whether stylistic or otherwise). You mention that you basically write music that you might write on your own. So, aside from the above mentioned requirements for odd time signatures or uneven beats, do you otherwise have complete artistic freedom when composing for Sesame Street? Or is it really simply a matter of working within rules and constraints that are workable or non-objectionable? Please elaborate.

KF: Well, first of all, I think that every endeavor, creative or otherwise, is a matter of working within rules and constraints. Blowing a jazz solo over chord changes gives you melodic freedom, but you are generally constrained by the harmonies and the rhythmic setting. Playing free jazz might give you melodic and harmonic freedom, but you are constrained by your own definition of "free playing", if that makes any sense. And I doubt that a classical musician feels "constrained" by the composed music, but it certainly does provide a significant set of constraints, as well as significant opportunity for expression and creativity. I think that musicians always work within some constraints, self-imposed or externally imposed, and this actually helps the creative process along by narrowing the possibilities from infinite to finite. As long as you have some degree of freedom, you can be creative even with many degrees of constraint. And in a way, the more constraints that are imposed, the *easier* your job becomes, since you really have fewer options for each creative decision.

In the case of my work for Sesame Street, it is true that I have some external constraints. I often say that I do this work "in collaboration" with Karen Aqua, the animator, but really I am doing it *for* her, and she is functioning as the segment producer. So the music I create has to satisfy her concept of the overall piece (as well as satisfying *my* concept of what will work with the animation). Quite often, my initial ideas are quite fine with her, but there certainly have been times when I have been sent back to the drawing board. But there has never been a case where the final result was something I was not proud to call my own. And the people Karen works for at Sesame Street have never sent back a track. So I feel overall that I have quite a lot of freedom in this situation, unlike a typical "commercial" music job, based on discussions with my friends who do that type of writing.

AAJ: You've referred to feeling "in sync" with Jon Hassell. Could you please explain why?

KF: I tend to focus on the sonic and textural aspects of music, rather than on the notes. I think that a single held note, for example, can have more impact than a measure full of sixteenth notes. I enjoy Jon Hassell's work very much, and I think some of my own work is in a similar stylistic ballpark to his, maybe because of this approach.

AAJ: Although your works include improvisation, and have received numerous positive reactions from the jazz community, do you feel the word "jazz" is appropriate in reference to your music? Why or why not?

KF: Categorizing music is always problematic. Distributors and record stores never know where to put my music. Some put it in the classical section, some in the jazz section, and some even put it in the rock section (I think because of my affiliation with Birdsongs, which used to be thought of as a rock group...). I myself think that jazz is probably the best category, not so much because my music is always improvised - it is not - but because jazz is now considered to be a relatively general and encompassing term by many listeners, more so, I think, than classical or rock. The best category might be "new music", but that sometimes gets confused with "new age music", a confusion I'd like to avoid. Recently there has been a new category called "new world", which might come even closer, but most distributors and record stores still stick with the jazz/classical/rock triumvirate.

AAJ: What musicians would you most like to work with that you have never worked with before? Why?

KF: Van Morrison. One of my earliest musical influences. I've always envied John Payne for his sax and flute work on "Astral Weeks"...

AAJ: You've recorded in caverns in New Mexico, performed in Hawaii and in Florida (at the Salvador Dali Museum) with BotM, and have performed at a reception for President Bill Clinton. Out of the many places and times you’ve performed or recorded, are there any that stand out as being the most memorable? If so, what are they and why?

KF: I have to say that your first example, recording in the underground rooms in New Mexico, was very memorable and significant to me. The sound in those rooms was really wonderful, which is what influenced me to record there in the first place. And I was able to spend a week there alone, just recording my layered improvisations, so it was both a musical and a bit of a spiritual experience. Finally, it resulted in my first solo CD, "Subterranea", which was a breakthrough for me as a composer and as a musician in general.

AAJ: What can a musician learn from being told by an audience member (post-performance) that he or she "played exceptionally well" or was "extremely moving" when he or she feels their performance was sub-standard?

KF: I have learned to trust my own judgement when it comes to my own performances. Audiences can be swayed by many things, and though it is very satisfying to have an audience respond positively to a performance, I usually am happiest when I myself feel that I played well. On the other hand, there have definitely been times when *I* was swayed by external circumstances to think a particular performance was poor, when in fact the recording of it turned out to be quite good...

AAJ: Do you have any preparatory routines or rituals prior to performing live? If so, what are they?

KF: No, but getting to the performance on time is pretty helpful.

AAJ: What's the funniest or most embarrassing thing that's happened to you while performing or recording?

KF: When I was just starting to play jazz, I worked a bit on "Stella by Starlight", but really only could play it with a chart in front of me. I sat in with the great vocalist Ruth Ristich at the Boston jazz club Ryles, and they called "Stella". I didn't have a chart in front of me, and I totally butchered it. I recovered a bit with a blues that they did next, but I went home and made sure that I memorized "Stella" right away.

AAJ: What is the most meaningful or memorable complement you've ever received?

KF: One of my goals is to make music that is somehow different from most of the other music that has come before. So when a musician friend whose opinion I respect greatly told me after listening to "Subterranea" that he'd "never heard anything like it", I was very pleased. And I even think he liked it!

AAJ: This fall you’ll be in residence with your wife, animator Karen Aqua, as part of Artists and Communities: America Creates for the Millenium. Could you please tell AAJ more about this?

KF: We will be working with a class of 4th graders in Price, Utah, about 2 1/2 hours out of Salt Lake City, to create an animated film and soundtrack documenting the history of nearby Nine Mile Canyon. The canyon is very rich historically, and its history mirrors that of the state of Utah as a whole. I will work with the kids to collect sounds and narration for the film's soundtrack. I will also do performances of my music (mostly from Pictures of Motion) in Salt Lake City and in Price. We're very excited about the project, and by the opportunity to get to know a new community. Utah in general, and Nine Mile Canyon in particular, will be a beautiful and inspiring place to live for three months, and I look forward to creating new music during my free time there. There is information about the project at (http://www.artistsandcommunities.org), by the way.

AAJ: What other projects can we expect from Ken Field in 2000-2001?

KF: I plan to record and release a 3rd solo CD of work I composed during my Spain Composer-in-Residence grant last year. And I'm working on music for a new animated film, "Sensorium", an abstract collaboration with Karen Aqua. Much of this music will be for small string ensembles, which I am very much looking forward to.

For further information on:

Ken Field (including detailed biography, discography, and much more) please refer to the Ken Field web page at: http://fieldk.home.att.net

TOKYO IN F, please refer to Sublingual Records web page at: www.sublingual.com

PICTURES OF MOTION, please refer to the sfz Recordings web page at: http://www.sfzrecordings.com

SUBTERRANEA, please refer to the O.O. Discs web page at: http://www.oodiscs.com

how to obtain these recordings, please refer to CDeMUSIC, 1-888-749-9998 or http://www.cdemusic.org/artists/field.html