Kevin Norton
Web Site
August 2001

"Without a doubt working with Anthony Braxton has been one of the great joys of my life. There always challenges in playing Anthony’s music but he’s always made me feel that the notation is a guide and having a unique, intelligent, heartfelt approach is just as important as accuracy."

In Context/Out of Context
Barking Hoop
2001

Reviewed By
Glenn Astarita

Photo Credit
Anja Hitzenberger

By Allen Huotari

When you think about the word “time”, what leaps into your mind? Is it a precious personal resource that you never have enough of and is always diminishing? Is it simply a universal given that allows us to index our personal memories? Is it a scientific variable that can’t be measured or defined except in terms of itself? Is it a benchmarking principle that aids in demarcating beginnings, middles, and ends? Is it a blank canvas waiting to be filled?

When you think about the phrase “time management” how do you feel about yourself? Is it bewilderment as to why you’re always running behind schedule? Is it pride as to how much has been accomplished so quickly? Is it dismay as to how little has changed for so long? Is it shame as to why so much of it is spent in reading an on-line jazz magazine? (peace, my beloved editors, ‘tis only a joke)

It could be suggested that performing music is “time management” (i.e., controlling events such that an accomplishment can be successfully maximized within a finite amount of time) in one of its purest forms. In expressing a thought or emotion, a musician claims a piece of time as his/her own and fills it with sound. It could be a few notes or chords played very slowly over a protracted amount of time. It could be many played very quickly in a short amount of time. The sounds could be chosen nearly randomly or impulsively, based upon intuition in spontaneous reaction to the environment. Or they could be chosen very carefully and deliberately, based upon specific parameters to be followed or goals to be attained.

Some of the most interesting music results when the boundaries between composition and improvisation are deliberately crossed if not obliterated. In a typical instantiation, this occurs when one musician (aka the “leader”) voluntarily opts to let fellow musicians (aka the “band”) decide HOW to manage time, but moderates WHEN that occurs. This can be accomplished by simply pre-scheduling intervals for improvisation within a composition, or by merely “suggesting” what the musicians “might” play within designated temporal perimeters, or by any other means available to the musicians (leader+band) collective imagination, creativity, temperament, or skill.

Although “time management” is a woefully inadequate phrase with which to describe his music, drummer/percussionist Kevin Norton can unquestionably be described as a musician who gets the maximum accomplished within a finite amount of time.

While he may have come to wider public recognition through his association with Anthony Braxton (as yet another example of the extraordinarily gifted musicians that grace Mr. Braxton’s recordings) Kevin Norton has also contributed articulate and imaginative skills as composer and improviser via performing/recording with Milt Hinton, Fred Frith, James Emery, Frank London, David Krakauer's Klezmer Madness, Phillip Johnston's Big Trouble, Marie McAuliffe's Ark Sextet, and Edward Ratliff's Rhapsodalia.

Most recently heard with Anthony Braxton on “Ten Compositions (Quartet) 2000” (CIMP Records) Kevin Norton has released several recordings of his own music and has initiated his own recording label, Barking Hoop, to document the most recent examples.

Of the Barking Hoop inaugural release, For Guy Debord (in nine events), All About Jazz modern jazz editor Glenn Astarita writes:

“Kevin Norton exhibits his writing and arranging expertise on this intriguing release inspired by filmmaker and writer Guy Debord…For Guy Debord (in nine events) comprises one extended piece, segmented into intersecting movements… the band pursues circular themes and Afro-Cuban rhythms as the soloists up the ante with heated exchanges via yearning cries and propulsive motifs, yet it’s not all about lengthy soloing and bravado as Norton injects disparate elements into this thoughtful and artfully conceived opus…Norton’s concepts and implementations provide the listener with a solid base for his or her psyche to run rampant…Highly recommended!” (ALL ABOUT JAZZ, February 2001)

Of the second Barking Hoop release, In Context/Out of Context), All About Jazz modern jazz editor Glenn Astarita writes:

“Kevin Norton continues to infuse previously applied concepts and practices into novel ways and means of exploring the outer boundaries of swing, bop and improvisation, witnessed on this trio set…Norton along with frequent collaborators, saxophonists Bob DeBellis and David Bindman embark upon the bass-less trio route as the band explores rhythmic variations in concert with, alternating dialogue and triggered responses…This band also excels at melding ferocious swing and free-bop lines with Norton’s polyrhythmic and altogether expansive developments…the musicians seamlessly transform matters into heterogeneous regions of sound consisting of whimsical themes, quiet interludes and articulate three-way conversation, atop sub-plots and quixotic passages…Recommended!” (ALL ABOUT JAZZ, March 2001)

As concluding perspective, Anthony Braxton might be the musician most often associated with jazz who is identified as being both exemplary and prolific with regard to how a “composer” can achieve a desired artistic aim through skillful “time management” (willfully surrendering control without abandoning it altogether). But an examination of his works and of the works of the musicians who have performed with him over the past 30+ years (Kenny Wheeler, Sam Rivers, George Lewis, Dave Holland, Barry Altschul, Ray Anderson, John Lindberg, Marilyn Crispell, Mark Dresser, Gerry Hemingway, Marty Ehrlich to name a few), evinces a collective testimonial and mutual devotion to a musical form and practice that is continually growing as opposed to merely being preserved.

Looking forward, it’s natural and logical to expect that Kevin Norton will also spend his time in giving nothing less than his best to further this growth. All we have to do is take the time to listen.

True to the theme of “time management”, Kevin Norton miraculously and graciously squeezed in many hours of typing alongside beloved practice time for this interview (which was conducted via e-mail in July 2001).

Thanks to Glenn Astarita for facilitating this interview.

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

KEVIN NORTON: I was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1956. Around 1961 or 1962 the family moved to Staten Island, N.Y. and I lived there until college. One of my first musical memories took place in the family home in Park Slope, Brooklyn. I had a record that I loved because it was the beginning of a TV show theme (I don't remember the name of the TV show. For some reason "Checkmate" keeps coming into my mind and the image of a melting chessboard...maybe somebody put LSD in my Nestle's Quik!) The sound was kind of like a "Secret Agent" jangling guitar. I kept picking up the needle and playing the beginning over and over again. This sound gave me so much happiness! My grandfather couldn't stand this insanity and ripped the needle off the record and slammed the phonograph top down! He might have ended that moment of musical obsession, but I gotta laugh, the jones lasts to this day!

AAJ: What led you to select drums and percussion as instruments of choice?

KN: I'm not sure how I came to choose the drums in the very beginning. The first instrument I had was a snare drum with a little cymbal coming off the side. I also got a practice pad early on and had a neighborhood teacher who was a stickler for the rudiments (basic technique building exercises). I met this kid who played drums in the school band. At an assembly in front of the whole school he got to play a little drum solo. He asked me if I wanted to see his drum set at home. He had a Ludwig kit that looked just like Ringo's down in his basement. The kit was so beautiful and this guy's house was so neat and clean. He asked me if I wanted to try his drums. Of course! It was so loud and so much fun, I was lost in the sound again! Then I was interrupted by this loud bang, louder than my drumming. We started to cautiously walk up the stairs from the basement to where the sound came from and we noticed the door had been slammed so hard that the jamb was hanging off the frame splintered into several pieces. "I think my mom is mad" he said, "you better get out of here." I sneaked out the garage and went home in a very happy and excited state, convinced I was on the right path. I begged my parents to get me a drum set, not mentioning the smashed door.

In junior high school I started timpani because I could read anything on the snare drum that they gave me. I wound up in the Staten Island borough-wide music program which met at my junior high school on Saturday mornings. It was there, in fact, that I met Kenny Washington and many other young musicians from different schools on Staten Island. I wound up playing timpani there as well since the hot-shot drum set player (a Buddy Rich protege) couldn't read pitches in the bass clef and hear a perfect fourth.(I think he became a semi-famous rock drummer.) It was rough for me since I really didn't have a "classical" teacher, I was really on my own to figure out an approach to timpani.

I started to play xylophone when I went to Hunter college, where I met Milt Hinton. My good friend, Tony Sbordoni, worked at Hunter and said "why don't you take it home for the summer?" I started at the very beginning: scales, arpeggios, sight reading of easy tunes. It was kind of humbling at first because I was already playing gigs with Milt Hinton as a drummer and already arranging and composing for my own jazz ensemble, but I wanted to be able to understand what the saxophone players were dealing with, playing my arrangements.

Listening to a Max Neuhaus record (on which he plays pieces by Feldman, Cage and Earle Brown) attracted me to some of the other possibilities of percussive sound, coming from an avant-garde/classical approach.

AAJ: As a percussionist, do you find a physical or visceral thrill to music making? Why or why not?

KN: Sometimes. I used to play blues gigs in bars, just groove loud and strong...and there are elements of physical abandon written into groups like the Context Trio. However, my gigs as a sideman seem to exist because I read music well and many times (not all the time and I guess it’s how I approach it as well) that might preclude physical thrill seeking. I will be looking for more percussive/physical thrills in the immediate future.

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

KN: A great day is when I get to practice most of the day. A good day is when I get a few hours in. An OK day is when I have so many other things that I almost shouldn’t practice but I walk around with timers and say “30mins or 10mins (and yes you CAN get something done in that time span) won’t stop me from getting the other time demanding projects done. Let’s say I’m doing a lot of typing, I will say to myself, “break time! Gotta practice a little.” and do it.

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

KN: I always enjoy practicing but if someone doesn’t maybe he/she can keep telling himself/herself : “Well it beats hangin’ out in phone booths lookin’ for spare change.”

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

KN: Again, I love to practice but I can tell you it IS harder to face very difficult music sometimes. It’s easier to practice stuff you have a handle on, but that’s why I try to be careful with how I organize my practice time. If I have a challenging piece by a certain composer to learn and I don’t have a lot of time, I will practice only that piece and let other stuff go. I could always stand to practice jazz time on the drum set or learn new/old Monk tunes on the vibes but if a concert of a composer’s brand new music is imminent that must take priority.

AAJ: How would you describe your musical education? (i.e. does it include formal training? Completely informal? Both?) What lessons were learned here that you still apply in your career?

KN: My musical education was and is both formal and informal. I started taking drums lessons from a neighborhood teacher but my dad worked for Columbia records in the 60’s, 70’s & 80’s (he died in 1987) and so there were a lot of records in the house and I just listened and listened. My teacher was really into jazz as well as the rudiments and reading. My dad would occasionally say “OK here’s some jazz...Miles Davis and Monk, but here, listen to the Last Poets or Harry Partch. In junior high school and high school I was involved in a “classical” orchestra but I didn’t have a “classical” teacher per se. What I did have were the Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn recordings so I could listen to the music and get it in my ear, but a “formal” classical teacher at that point would have really helped. I was kind of “on my own” at this point in my life.

It was around this time I came across a Frank Zappa quote or paraphrase where he said “ forget school, go to the library and educate yourself!” I went to the Lincoln Center library and took out scores on a weekly basis.

At Hunter College I met Milt Hinton and got to work on my jazz playing and some teachers there recommended that I study privately with some people from Julliard to start getting my mallet (xylophone, vibes, etc.) playing together. I really enjoyed being with Milt at Hunter and started to play gigs with him outside of school. I also really enjoyed the theory and composition classes at Hunter. I got to study with Louise Talma, Myron Fink, Louis Martin and Donald Lybert amongst other great teachers, it was a great time.

After I graduated I took a year off and then went to Manhattan School of Music for my masters in percussion. They thought it curious that a theory and composition major would want to get his masters in percussion but I worked hard there. I was mostly interested in the orchestra, percussion ensemble and Claire Heldrich’s New Music Consort because in my mind I was already playing gigs with Milt Hinton on the outside, why should I play jazz in school when there where all these “classical” groups that I could learn from?

Then after school, I took another left turn and went back to trying to get drum set gigs and playing mallets occasionally. I started to fall in with the “Downtown” scene a little and really enjoyed it. I mean after playing a timpani gig with some small chamber group and then going to hear Ikue Mori play in a basement somewhere was a very liberating experience. I wanted it all: I wanted to be able to play classical gigs, jazz gigs, free improvisation gigs, but something about playing with Fred Frith made me see that I had to find my own voice within all these various musical loves.

Speaking of my musical education, I also learned a lot about jazz and jazz drumming from hanging out with Kenny Washington, who I knew from Staten Island and I learned a lot about composition from Eric Ewazen who I met at Julliard. I’ve also learned quite a bit from Anthony Braxton. Like most of the world’s musicians, I consider my education a never-ending pursuit. (As is processing the information and figuring out who I am within it all.)

AAJ: As a music educator, what have you learned about yourself and your music from the teaching of your students?

KN: I’ve learned that I like teaching because it’s a great excuse to study more myself. Every teacher will tell you this: you may think you know something (and probably do) but when you have to explain it clearly to someone with less experience, you may find out that you have taken some things for granted.

AAJ: When teaching, if there is one single message you want to get through to your students, what would that be? Why?

KN: My students tend to be on different levels and I try to deal with them as individuals, so I don't think there can be just one message. There are a few that I stress though.

For my students who are technically advanced, in a jazz context, I tend to ask "What are you trying to say with your music?" It's OK to learn Charlie Parker licks for their own good and for conceptual reasons (i.e. how to approach a ii-V) but if you are playing a tune, deal with the "here and now", deal with the musicians in this room and don't force your Charlie Parker licks into this situation because it's not 1951 and you're not playing with Miles Davis, Walter Bishop, Teddy Kotick and Max Roach. That's why composing your own music is helpful, you really have to ask yourself "what am I trying to say?" Find your place in the music, don't force yourself or your ideas onto something that may already be in motion, with it's own beautiful identity. (Having said that I wish I had another parallel life so that I could just spend it working on the music of Charlie Parker, Monk, J.S. Bach, Olivier Messiaen, Anthony Braxton, etc!)

It’s also important to stay in touch with the fun of music. It's important to be disciplined in your approach and organize your time effectively, serious stuff, but don't lose sight of the original feelings that got you involved with music. Though the word "fun" on the surface sounds a little shallow. I think it's fun to concentrate on something for a long time: practicing a hard piece, trying to solve a compositional problem. Some people might use the word "flow."

AAJ: Among the many talented musicians you’ve worked with who has presented you with the most challenging and/or synergistic relationship? Who have you learned the most from working with? What is it you’ve learned?

KN: Without a doubt working with Anthony Braxton has been one of the great joys of my life. There always challenges in playing Anthony’s music but he’s always made me feel that the notation is a guide and having a unique, intelligent, heartfelt approach is just as important as accuracy. I was listening to the very first Ghost Trance recording recently (Four Compositions (Quartet) 1995, Braxton House 005). It’s still one of my favorites (of the pieces released so far). I was pretty nervous because we had no music to practice, he just set the date up. I practiced all day and night before the day of the session (August 19, 1995) though we had no idea of what we would be playing the next day. There was nothing really said by Anthony before the rehearsal and recording as how to approach the percussion playing.

At a rehearsal for a gig before this first Ghost Trance recording (the performance is released on “Small Ensemble Music 1994” on Splasc(h).) I asked Anthony: “do you want these parts played on pitched percussion or non-pitched percussion?” and he said “I trust your ears”. Thank you Anthony! That’s how I’ve approached things since then except when there are really specific parts for specific instruments like in the orchestra pieces, operas, etc. Anyway, even though I was nervous, Anthony made me feel comfortable to try out different sounds and approaches to the written material. As I remember him saying at an orchestra rehearsal: “If you haven’t made a mistake, you’ve made the biggest mistake of all.”

AAJ: As a follow up, what musicians that you have never worked with before would you like to work with?

KN: I could probably name five hundred musicians that I would like to play with. First of all, I want to continue to play with Anthony because no matter the context, orchestra, jazz quartet, Ghost Trance, whatever, I’ve always come away challenged, interested and energized. I always feel like I’ve grown a little more after I play with Anthony.

Also I want to continue with the people that I have developed good relationships with over the years: Bob DeBellis, David Bindman, Tomas Ulrich, Andy Eulau, Kevin O’Neil, Bern Nix, Haewon Min, Dave Ballou, Steve Lehman, Wilber Morris, James Emery, Nicki Parrot, Ron Jackson, Mary Ann McSweeney, Drew Gress, Ed Ratliff, Michael Attias, Sam Bardfeld, Alfred Harth, Bob Celusak, Denman Maroney, Mark Dresser and Marie McAuliffe. I’m sorry if I’ve spaced on some names. Getting back to the “500 musicians I could name”...if it’s going to happen it’s going to happen...it’s good and healthy to dream but I think I’d like to keep those dreams personal right now.

AAJ: What defines a successful piece if music for you? (whether in our own work or that of others)

KN: The short answer for me is, if the parameters presented are followed through and satisfied, then the piece is successful. I think viewing things this way make "style" a less important consideration. I've been moved by classical music, punk rock, jazz, Iranian folk music. I want to "feel" the music and be intellectually stimulated by it. Though that sounds simple enough, I can be really analytical and critical of my work and the work of others. I don't love the feeling of listening to a piece or a set of music and feeling kind of empty and thinking "well that was interesting."

AAJ: What are the most attractive/problematic aspects of improvisation for you?

KN: There are many kinds of improvisation: free improvisation, improvising melodies over chord changes and/or time forms and a musician could learn how to improvise within various "ethnic" vocabularies, say Indian music, learning the various forms, rhythms and scales specific to that music.

When I was growing up and started to play music, improvising, playing along to records, it was "easy" and fun. Reading music (in a lesson or elementary school band) could be stressful at times. I didn't understand why someone would write out music (especially drum parts) when it would be just as easy to improvise.

When I started to play timpani in junior high school and got to play cool timpani parts like "Overture to Romeo and Juliet" by Tchaikovsky, I realized that reading was important and that a part like the Tchaikovsky could not be improvised.

Free improvising can be really exciting or it can be a real drag because some musicians are not "free" at all, but are greatly limited in their abilities (conceptual hearing, control of their instruments, etc.) and their ego prevents them from really listening and getting beyond a surface reality of "free" improvised music.

AAJ: What are the most attractive/problematic aspects of composition for you?

KN: I find I really need time alone to "compose". To pitches and rhythms, dynamics down on paper, to have it be clear for other musicians to read and for the "intentions" of the composition to be articulate. It requires concentrated time and I'm always running away from other things to find that time. It's hard for me not to want to get together and jam. On the other hand it's such a great feeling to be responsible for the structure of sound from start to finish AND have it feel natural and organic, as if it were improvised. One piece where it really came together for me was "The Enduring Heart" on "Flood at the Ant Farm" by Big Trouble. That piece is totally written out and when I've played it for people they've said "but isn't the trombone part improvised?", etc. That's a successful piece to me. These concepts were advanced in "Three Movements for Solo Clarinet and Ensemble" on "Knots" (Music & Arts CD1033) and the entire "For Guy Debord" (Barking Hoop 1) piece. There are sections totally written and sections where the focus or primary "voice" is improvised. In these pieces there is a lot of composition work but I loved playing (reading and improvising) with my friends/colleagues including Anthony Braxton, Bob DeBellis, David Bindman, Tomas Ulrich and Joe Fonda. If I played these pieces with totally different musicians I feel like I would have to accept the differences, even though I may not "like" the differences.

AAJ: Are you able to separate/distinguish your composer self from your improviser self?

KN: I always want the "composing" and "improvising" to get closer together so that for the listener it's difficult to distinguish and easier for me as a person to feel "whole", not compartmentalized. In other words, I don't want to separate/distinguish the composing self from the improvising self, even though it might "happen."

AAJ: Who would you consider as contemporaries, peers, brothers (sisters)? Why? (note: this might include non-musicians)

KN: I'm glad you mentioned that it could be a non-musician. I had a very important experience just prior to putting out my first CD, "Integrated Variables" (CIMP#121) and I mentioned it in my most recent release "In Context / Out of Context" (Barking Hoop 2). Maybe it was around eight years ago that a friend of ours, (i.e., Haewon and me) Dongsin Hahn, took us around to various places in Brooklyn and Queens and introduced us to several Korean diaspora who came to the U.S. to work on their art, mostly painting. All of the artists impressed me with their intensity and sacrifice. When I was in Yeong Gil Kim's studio it hit me how similar our work areas were and the sense of concentration and resultant happiness. The big difference was when I finished practicing or playing a gig, there was nothing but the memories of the music in the ears and minds of the listeners, (very important and beautiful) when Yeong Gill was finished there was something people could look at over time, discuss and refer to. I felt that I had to begin to record and document my music, even if only for myself. Yes, I got this feeling from Mr. Kim, more than any musician that I knew personally at that time.

This reminds me of your questions about improvisation and composition. At one time I was of the mind that I could improvise forever and with the sense of "just letting it go", the skills and feelings would always be there, but in fact, the skills and the feelings are always in a state of change and it's important to have documentation at various junctures.

AAJ: Your first release on Barking Hoop is "For Guy Debord" (in nine events) by The Kevin Norton Ensemble with Anthony Braxton. Could you please describe how this work came to be and how it was constructed?

KN: It started in two ways.

First, I wanted to write a piece for my ensemble and Braxton, similar in concept to the little concerto (“Three Movements for Solo Clarinet and Ensemble”) that I wrote for David Krakauer and my ensemble for the disc KNOTS (Music & Arts CD 1033). (I want to continue with this concerto idea with other guest soloists and my ensemble)

Second, I was reading an article about Guy Debord and his suicide: I was moved by the depth of his convictions and interested in learning more about his ideas. I began to read his “Society of the Spectacle.” When I began working on the basic musical materials for the “concerto” for Anthony, I went back and listened to my trio CD “Integrated Variables” (CIMP #121) and noticed that I had paraphrased Debord in my notes for it. I said: “…it’s important that we embrace our complexities and not let media mediate our own experiences and emotions. We seek to avoid both selfishness and conformity by directing our psychic energies, integrated and differentiated, to reflecting a complex reality.” Maybe another way of looking at it: the music can be emotionally direct without constantly referring back to an established form or sound. Or: why try to fit your ideas into an established form? Let the content (and honesty) determine the form, no mater how “complex” it might seem. Don’t pander, don’t cave-in to a sound bite mentality. I don’t know that this represents Debord’s philosophy well, but it’s what I have resonated with.

The titles for the events are taken from his text or ideas either fairly directly or tangentially. I thought about the overall structure of the piece first: where I wanted the piece to start and where I wanted it to end and then how the path from beginning to end was going to be navigated. Unlike the aforementioned “Three Movements for Solo Clarinet…” I wanted to give everyone in the ensemble a chance to interact with the written material.

AAJ: As follow up, the track sequence (and a few of the titles) for each event are missing from my copy of the cd. Could you please list the track sequence, and give a brief description of the "event"?

KN:

1) “Instinctual Eye of Consciousness” Vibes-Alto (Braxton) duo. Totally written out.

2) “Endemic Characteristics” Vibes, 2 flutes (DeBellis and Bindman) 90% written out (with moments of improvisation for the flutes). Braxton soloing on contra-bass clarinet

3) “Future, Past, Tense”- short cymbal/gong statement. Totally written out.

4) “Dedalus” - cello (Ulrich) bass (Fonda) totally written duo Braxton soloing on sopranino sax. Drum set improvising interactive with both strings (written) and sax (improvising). Drums signal change to move to “Revolutionary…”, David Bindman begins conga.

5) “Revolutionary Practice” Gb pedal in bass. Kevin moves to vibes. Braxton and DeBellis read material “open placement” Kevin moves to drums for second “section” of “Revolutionary…” It becomes more of a duo improv for Braxton and DeBellis based on the written material. Kevin moves back to vibes for the third “section”. Lessening density, segue into…

6) “Component” a bass solo with written fragments for starting point, middle possibilities and ending point. Segue to…

7) “Fragment” a drum solo with written fragments for starting point, middle possibilities and ending point. Segue to…

8) “Not at the Periphery” totally written out in score form (Fonda-bass, DeBellis-alto, Braxton-alto, Bindman-tenor, Norton-drums) Tomas Ulrich improvises with score as guide.

9) “Deliberate Intention” Vibes - Alto(Braxton) duo 95% notated. Solo for Braxton over vibraphone ostinato. Last measures rhythmic counterpoint notated, “free” pitch choices.

By the way Francesco Martinelli’s “Anthony Braxton:Discography” (It’s a really great book if you are a Braxton fan!) lists approximate timings for nine events and points out that there are no index points, just presented as a single track on the CD.

AAJ: What did you learn from the composition and recording of this work?

KN: I think that “In Context / Out of Context” was build on some of the things I learned from “For Guy Debord, but I feel like it’s mostly an instinctual learning, not a codified and/or studied learning. I’m trying to move from one thing to the next as quickly as possible. I can’t be impulsive when I start using paper and pencil but I can be impulsive when I get a “sound” for a project in my head. I want to be able to come to peace in my mind with the two approaches I seem to have: a) the impulsive (improvising?) and b) the careful, thought out (composing?). I say “composing” and “improvising” because it reminds me of one of your earlier questions about making a distinction between the “composing self” and the “improvising self” and like I said then I don’t want to consciously make that decision, though I still “feel” a difference picking up drum sticks or vibe mallets from picking up a pencil.

As already mentioned above, I should have indexed where the events occur, I originally thought it was intrusive…I wanted people to really listen to the whole piece intact, the way it was performed and meant to be heard. After talking with some people’s opinion that I respected, they suggested that the index points (or track numbers) and listing of the events would have been helpful listeners to understand the work better.

I re-learned that Braxton is an incredible musician. A great reader with great improvising instincts. He and I worked very hard on the written material especially “Instinctual Eye…” He loved it and thanked me for writing it. I can’t thank him enough for the hard work and positive spirit he put into the performance!

One night I was listening to “For Guy Debord” (and I don’t listen to my records as much as I listen to other people’s music, not even close), maybe two years after the performance, I started crying because I felt Anthony was really playing from his heart, and I called him on the telephone and we had a great conversation filled with ideas and a broad spectrum of emotions and humor! I feel the same way about the rest of the group: Bob DeBellis, David Bindman, Tomas Ulrich and Joe Fonda.

In fact, when I recorded the piece I had no intention of releasing it, I just wanted to have it so I could learn from it. I wanted to start a record label so I could put a solo percussion CD (which I’m still working on) thinking that no label would be interested in a solo percussion CD, so I would have to put it out myself. As I was listening to my little cassette tape of the “For Guy Debord” concert, loving the playing that I heard, I thought this is where to start a label. Some smaller labels showed some interest, but it would be emotionally clearer to put it out myself. So I learned to get in touch with myself (as they say in the psychology biz) and forgo taking the “usual routes” that would have left me disappointed or resigned at best. Of course, anybody putting out a CD will learn a lot about distribution, manufacturing, etc. I'm tempted to say it’s something every musician should do once in his life, but it does bite into my practice time…so I once again learned how much I love my practice time!

AAJ: Do you believe the term "modern jazz" should be applied to this work? Why?

KN: My music is informed by “jazz”, of course: happily. My music is also informed by “classical composition”. I don’t think of combining “2 parts classical and 3 parts jazz”…creating some kind of formula. I’m just trying to “sing” in my own way. I’m just trying to work with the various instrumental sound possibilities and come up with new ideas or forms that will inspire the performers and (then) the listeners. As with my fellow composers (Kevin O’Neil and James Emery for instance) there are many musicians that take the “classical” and “jazz” traditions (and love them on a gut level). Yet the music of Kevin O’Neil is different from the music of James Emery which is different from the music of Kevin Norton. Sometimes when people (especially writers) hear that composers are into both “jazz” and “classical” they want to call the music “Third Stream.” Another inadequate label (just dealing with Kevin Norton, James Emery or Kevin O’Neil for instance.) These labels don’t get me really angry like they get some other musicians (understandably) [Mingus: “Well the word jazz bothers me. It bothers me because, as long as I’ve been publicly identified with it, I’ve made less money and had more trouble than when I wasn’t…As I started watching my “jazz” reputation grow, my pocketbook got emptier. I got more write-ups and came to New York to stay. So I was really in “jazz”, and I found it carries you anywhere from a nut house to poverty. And the people think you’re making it because you get write-ups. And you sit and starve and try to be independent of the crooked managers and agencies. You try to make it by yourself. No, I don’t get any good feeling from the word jazz.” (1964) From page 279 of Keeping Time: readings in jazz history edited by Robert Walser Oxford University Press. Max Roach: “What “jazz” means to me is the worst kind of working conditions, the worst in cultural prejudice…that is why I am presently writing a book, I Hate Jazz. It’s not my name and it means my oppression as a man and musician.” (1972) Ibid. Page 309]

Again, I think it comes down to the musicians not being able (sometimes able or willing or allowed or asked) to define their own terms.

On the other hand I want to look at the good side of things: when I think of “jazz” I think of Milt Hinton and his music. When I think of “classical” I think about how much I love J.S. Bach’s music or in the case of “third stream” I think of George Russell or Anthony Braxton or John Lewis. It’s very important to define our own “terms”…but I don’t want to burn a lot of time or expend energy in a negative way.

Thanks for asking this question! I’ll be working on essays to all the related tangents for the next hundred years!

AAJ: Your second release on Barking Hoop is "In Context/Out of Context" by your trio (with David Bindman and Bob DeBellis on saxes and flutes).You describe this work as consisting of a number of shorter pieces played in sequence without a break. Were these pieces originally composed and envisioned as a whole? Or is "In Context/Out of Context" a composite of separate (originally independent) pieces that were assembled or integrated into a (now dependent) whole? Please elaborate.

KN: "In Context / Out of Context" was specifically written for me and Bob DeBellis and David Bindman to get a chance to stretch out. As I already said, some of the previous pieces for the ensemble were written as sort of quasi-concertos, bringing in outside soloists. "In Context..." was an attempt to do that with smaller forces: just three people instead of six and it being a "concerto" for everyone involved. These pieces were originally composed with the thought that they would be parts of a whole. The overall arc of the piece was considered first. Only one part existed (in a slightly different form) before the conception of "In Context."

Some of the compositional goals were:

1) have passionate almost cathartic feel combined with a "classical" chamber group's precision.

2) "Areas" to play "free" in and "areas" to work with harmonic motion and pre-determined rhythmic forms.

3) Use of the extremes of the register and texture available with two groups of instruments (woodwinds and percussion).

AAJ: As follow up, you mention being influenced by Cecil Taylor and Charlie Parker as provoking the idea for "In Context/Out of Context". You also mention that these influences might seem to be disparate to some but not to others. Regardless of one's opinion in this matter, do you feel that this work should appeal to fans of both Parker and Taylor? What seemingly disparate singularities, ideas, or qualities in the works of Parker and Taylor might a listener be able to be draw together as a result of hearing "In Context/Out of Context"? Or alternatively (and despite context) should "In Context/Out of Context" be listened to as being "in the tradition" of BOTH Taylor and Parker?

KN: "Should appeal" is maybe an awkward choice of words. It's my hope some of the combatants in the "jazz style wars" would put down their "weapons"(attitudes?) for a while and realize we are all looking for the same things. Some of those "things" would be to work with or gain control of our musical materials and define our own terms.

Parker was working with pre-determined chord changes, creating complex melodies with harmonic implications. Cecil Taylor does not work with the "standard" pop song forms (Yes, I know except in some of his very early recordings.) but came up with a more "through composed", yet highly emotional and personal improvisational vocabulary. Cecil as compared to Bird had a different "surface sound" but they both succeeding in seeing their musical plans through to fruition, highly intelligent but without sacrificing emotion.

David Bindman, Bob DeBellis and I enjoy practicing and playing in the "Parker stream of consciousness" and the "Taylor stream of consciousness". It was Bob DeBellis that kept reminding me of Jimmy Lyons' achievements, especially with Cecil Taylor ("Nefertiti, the Beautiful One has Come" or the CD reissue "Trance" was always on of my favorite Taylor CDs, but I heard it differently after my conversations with Bob DeBellis about Lyons). It was with David Bindman that I had a great time playing "Cherokee changes" many times, but in particular (two months before the "In Context" concert) while warming up before a totally unrelated sound track recording. Thinking, "This is fun, let's have fun!" I "wrote" those changes into the structure of "In Context / Out of Context". (Charlie Parker wrote a new melody "Koko" so that he could work on the changes of "Cherokee") So, to me, it's a grass roots piece.

AAJ: In his essay "Kafka and His Precursors", Jorge Luis Borges wrote: "The fact is that every writer creates his own precursors. His work modifies our conception of the past, as it will modify the future." Dave Douglas wrote (in an interview with AAJ, as response to the preceding quote): "In 'Lutoslawski Profile', a book of interviews with the Polish composer Witold Lutoslawski, he says, 'Composers often do not hear the music that is being played; it only serves as an impulse for something quite different - for the creation of music that only lives in their imagination. It is a sort of schizophrenia - we are listening to something and at the same time creating something else.' I would have to agree, and add that by making new music we influence the way the music of the past is seen."

KN: First of all, I think it's very true that "Composers often do not hear the music that is being played; it only serves." (Dave Douglas quoting Witold Lutoslawski). For me, I'll listen to Brahms or "Cannonball" Adderley or Martin Carthy, whatever and conceptualize: "What if?" It's nothing like "let me take this lick and use it in one of my pieces". The way a "precursor" would work into my work would be more abstract than that and at the same time, more organic. For instance, how "Cherokee" made it into "In Context / Out of Context" or going back in time, how Stravinsky made into "In Balance." on KNOTS. Stravinsky got up every morning and played J.S. Bach on his piano and then he went to his composition work. Where is the Bach in Stravinsky? Everywhere and nowhere. You can't say "Ah Ha! A quote from the Well Tempered Klavier, Book I, Prelude in C Major, measure 5! It's not that obvious and therein lies part of the fun of endless research!

Now getting back to the Borges essay: for such a small essay (4 pages in the book I have) it's very complex. It sets up many potential courses of tangential research. Relating to Kafka he mentions: Han Yu, a prose writer of the 9th century, Kierkegaard, Zeno of Elea, Aristotle (384-322 BC), etc. You could spend a lot of time doing the research to get a better grasp of what Borges is talking about. Ensuring that life would never be boring. I also think that Borges was suggesting that Kafka was tapping into something universal and of course, we all are. I think that's what all great artists (creators) do: A great piece of music, a book, a painting, opens doors to new (or old) ideas, that opens more doors and on and on.

AAJ: As follow up, How do you think these statements are applied to you and your work as a musician/composer? Who (or what) might your precursors be? What works do you think might bear resemblance to works of your own, yet nevertheless have little resemblance to each other?

KN: Yes of course I have precursors. Who would my precursors be? Well there are probably many, some I know of and many that I don't know of.

What works of mine? I say let the listeners/readers chew on this last one. Kevin O' Neil just called me and told me that this new piece I'm working on, "sounded like 'Amsterdam Complexities'." That was a really interesting statement because I had forgotten about my composition "Amsterdam Complexities". I thought I was thinking of Elliot Carter and Cecil Taylor when I wrote this new piece "Change Dance (Troubled Energy)" Who's viewpoint is more "correct"? Both of our viewpoints and all the truly involved listeners.

My job now is to get back to composing so that these "connections" between all of us will continue.

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

KN: Well, it wasn’t funny to me at the time, but my car got towed while I was working on the music for the movie “The Music of Chance”. I had just finished getting my stuff into this mid-town Manhattan studio and I went downstairs and the tow truck driver told me “once the hook is on there’s nothing I can do. Here’s where you can pick up your car.” So I went through the whole day concentrating on the music, trying to push away the thought of how a nice chunk of my fee was going to go towards getting my car out of the pound.

Another time was when I was playing with David Krakauer in Besancon, France. We had dinner just before the concert and someone recommended this dish made with local mushrooms, “only found in this part of France.” The dish tasted great. As we started to play I felt like my stomach was in bad shape and getting worse by the second. Maybe after the second piece, I caught David’s eye and with that “come here” motion in my forefinger, David, in front of hundreds of listeners, came within earshot. “I’m going to be sick. Do something, play a solo piece, I’ve got to puke.” So I left the stage and David in his perfect French talked about his solo piece called “Rothko on Broadway”. I heard him start to play it as I frantically looked for a sink or toilet, which at this point seemed surprisingly and annoyingly difficult. After my bodily responsibilities were fulfilled I returned to the stage to finish my musical responsibilities. I went back on stage as the audience applauded for “Rothko on Broadway” so nothing was made of my exit and re-entrance. The whole band, including me, had a good laugh after the concert.

This is a good question. I would like to think of the “funny things” more often.

AAJ: What projects can we expect from you during 2001- 2002?

KN: I now have a duo with pianist Haewon Min. We play the music of Anthony Braxton, especially music that Anthony wrote for piano and woodwinds (I play the woodwind parts on marimba or vibes). We had a very successful start at Roulette (in NYC) this past March and Anthony just gave us some more music to work on so I’m really looking forward to this project continuing and growing.

I’m also looking forward to two more Barking Hoops coming out in September or October. One for a new group of mine with Mark Dresser Dave Ballou Steve Lehman Rachel Telesmanick and me. The other will be Anthony Braxton’s current “standards” quartet (Anthony - saxes , me, guitarist - Kevin O’Neil and bassist - Andy Eulau.) It will be called “8 Standards (Wesleyan) 2001”.

Also a new, beautiful Portuguese label TREM AZUL will be putting out Kevin Norton’s Meta-Four Quartet (me, bassist Wilber Morris, trombonist - Masahiko Kono and vibraphonist - Hitomi Tono’oka) “Live at the Knitting Factory” some time in early/mid 2002.

On October 4, 2001 I will be performing new compositions at Merkin Hall in New York City (as part of the Interpretations series) with yet another group myself on drums and vibes, Drew Gress -bass, Sam Bardfeld - violin, Tomas Ulrich - cello and Haewon Min - piano.

Also be on the lookout for two cooperative groups I’m involved in: Trio Viriditas (Alfred Harth - saxes, Wilber Morris - bass and me - drums and vibes) and the The Iron Monkey Trio (me, Andy Eulau and Bob Cellusak - tenor and soprano saxes).

As a “sideman” there are two great CIMPs coming out: Anthony Braxton’s “9 Compositions (Hill) 2000” CIMP#236 and Steve Lehman’s “Structural Fire” CIMP #245

AAJ: In conclusion, if you hadn’t chosen music as a career, what might you have chosen instead?

KN: I used to joke that I was going to go to law school and with the course of recent events that might have turned out to be very useful. Or if a had any kind of 9 to 5 type job, I could just leave work come home be with my wife and son, listen to music as a hobby, but I’m not that kind of person. It’s very hard for me to “turn-off”...I don’t want to stop working if something is going well and then if I’m finished it’s on to the next thing almost immediately. Music is the perfect career for a type-A personality! So here I am and there I go, forever!

For more information about Kevin Norton and his music, please refer to the following sites: