Bill Dixon: An In-depth Look into the Accomplishments, Philosophies, and Convictions of the Man

What a controversy! Controversy is too nice a word since, as far as I know, the CD version of Collection is now being sold openly. It was a very unpleasant experience, and it served to interfere with my work in addition to being, for me with my resources, rather costly. I know you know the Cadence people and for that reason coupled with the fact that I don't want to revisit the negativeness of that situation, I'll answer your question but not in depth. First, did you ever see the original 2 LP box set? I'll show it to you, and you should get some sense of what the controversy was.

Was it in the packaging as opposed to the music itself?

First of all, the CD version as issued by that company is completely unauthorized. The original Collection was issued in a signed and numbered, limited edition of 500 LPs. I selected the tapes from my archive, mastered them in a studio in Lebanon, NY, assembled the booklet of writings and drawings, designed the front and back cover of the box, and gave it to Cadence Jazz Records for production. I did this because at the time, I had a pressing financial situation, and I wanted to settle it completely. Cadence had previously indicated an interest in my work and since I wanted to settle the aforementioned matter, I made the offer to them. So I put everything else on hold—I was teaching at the time—and did the work, did all the design, the packaging, the beautiful booklet, a booklet of my drawings and writings, signed each copy. The first disagreement I had with Cadence was when I told them I had to have proofs. They told me flat out that I couldn't have proofs. I became quite annoyed about this and from that point on had Sharon Vogel take over as liaison person because I could not deal with it. I can only take so much. When Collection was completed and published, I wrote Bob Rusch a very long letter detailing the nature of my incredible disappointment with him. I had trusted him, and relating to art, aesthetics and philosophy, in my opinion, he had failed to toe the mark. He never replied to my letter and I never heard another word from him. Thirteen years later, I am starting to work on the box set Odyssey, and I get a call from Rusch telling me he has sold the 500 LP copies of Collection, and is now ready to go to CD production.

This is the same two CDs that begin the box set Odyssey?

That's right. Well, I wrote back and advised him that I would like an accounting of the sale of the 500 copies that took 13 years to be disposed of. You do not have to be a member of the Mensa Society to understand why I wanted this. Since Collection was issued in a limited edition, I would like to know who owns my stuff. He would not produce an accounting and found all kinds of reasons to insist that it wasn't necessary. My name has been trademarked. It cost me a considerable amount of money to trademark my name. I am also a corporation. So, I talked with my trademark attorney, who contacted Rusch, but Cadence continued not to comply. I wanted an injunction to stop the CD release, but I was not big enough to get this. I was reading the contract one way, and they were reading it another way. I ended up with three different attorneys and spent a bit of money before I had to call a halt. It would have cost me, as I was told, an inordinate amount of money to get an injunction, and even after the expenditure of money I was not sure a judge would grant it. And there was the time factor. Things necessary for my work had been put on hold, etc., so when I completed the performance of "Index" in New York, I decided that that was that.

You went ahead with Odyssey right after that?

I went on with the assembling, design and manufacture of Odyssey. The remastering of the tapes had been done over the two-year period. I put a memorandum on my web page informing those collectors of my work of the situation that pertained to the Collection fiasco and advised them not to buy, review, play on the air, or in any way support the unauthorized, pirated edition issue that was the Cadence release. Some record stores complied and wrote me that they awaited the release of my box set Odyssey and would bypass the purchase of the unauthorized Collection. A radio station, in the process of doing an interview over the telephone, advised me of the Cadence release and sent me their copy for my records. Rusch wanted to produce Odyssey, but I believed I could not trust them. Even when it's in writing, I didn't believe that I could trust them. They made an inquiry relating to the possibilities of North Country distributing Odyssey, but after that experience I didn't feel that request even warranted an answer. I bumped into him recently at Victoriaville, and we spoke, but I am not even angry with him now. I did not know what I would do if I ever saw him, but when it happened, it was a non-event. My blood pressure did not even rise.

Time heals.

Well, I realized I could not win. One of the decisions one must eventually make, especially at my age and with my temperament has to do with which battles should continue to be fought and which should just be dropped.

THE VICTIORIAVILLE TRIO

Both you and Cecil have found a kindred spirit in drummer Tony Oxley as a duet partner. How did the trio at Victoriaville come about?

Cecil originally turned me on to Tony and the nature of his work and approach to percussion. When FMP celebrated the 10th anniversary of the Berlin Wall coming down, I was invited to participate and flew over to Berlin to do a special concert. I used Tony and the two bassists Mattias Bauer (Conny's brother) and Klaus Koch, who died shortly after the concert. We performed three long pieces of music in concert and the recording released was entitled Berlin Abbozzi. Cecil was there and was quite enthusiastic about the group's performance. So recently, he asked if I would like to do something with Tony and him at Victoriaville. I had to think about it, because the Canadians, by the paucity of invitations that have been extended to me to do things there, have obviously never been that enamored with my work.

That is strange, given the Canadian way of embracing the art form.

I was invited, when Alan Silva and I were engaged in doing duets, to perform in Canada in the middle sixties, but a record of mine received a rather desultory review and the concert was cancelled. That record, which has recently been reissued, has been revisited critically, and relating to its artistic merits is now considered a significant recording. The only other time was when we did Imagine the Sound in Toronto. We did a beautiful concert in a club called The Edge with Freddie Waits and Art Davis, which was filmed in its entirely.

No one has seen that, have they?

No one has seen it. That is the only time I have performed in Canada.

What changed your mind about doing Victoriaville?

I thought about Cecil's offer and decided to do it. I met Tony at Cecil's virtual insistence when he and I were doing the duets in Verona in 1992. I owed a record to Soul Note and decided to ask Tony if he was interested. He was. I wanted William Parker as one bassist and asked him to call Barry Guy, whom I did not know, to be the other bassist. That became Vade Mecum I & II. In Lyon, I did an incredible concert with them, which is on video, and then Tony and I did the orchestra piece The Enchanted Messenger, did remarkable duets in Rome, and then went into Soul Note's studio in Milan and did Papyrus I & II. So, when it came time to do Victoriaville, it came together naturally. I had worked with both Cecil and Tony in duet, so I was interested to see how it would work as a trio. The recording went remarkably well, so I do not know what these people are talking about who were uncomfortable with what we did and with me especially. They were quite uncharitable in their assessment of the event.

Yes, I have read four or five reviews that are somewhat critical of the concert. Some of the negative comments center around the length of the performance.

Well, the length of the concert and the tardiness of its initiation, all 'extra-musical' concerns, seemed to ruffle some feathers, and some 'critics' seem to continue to think that after all these years, I do not know what I am doing with the trumpet. Reality is on my side. The concert was recorded and their 'informed' and erudite assessments, observations and attempts at 'analysis' can be challenged since interested listeners have only to hear the recording to find out if those guys, who go to such pains to undervalue my work, are right. All people have to do is listen to realize it is a beautiful record.

It was probably one of the most heralded and anticipated concerts of the year.

Cecil played well, we all played well. I had a similar experience years ago with someone's reception to my work on November 1981. There was this hack writer who wrote some rather nasty things about the concert, not dissimilar in tone from what some wrote about the concert in Victoriaville. He did not know it was being recorded, and the record came out. What could he say then? Over the years, that recording has been one of my best-received recordings.

As we listen to the CD version of the Victoriaville performance you put on, I am intrigued by the interplay and the meshing of instruments. Was there any pre-concert direction set?

No, we simply walked on to the stage and proceeded to play. It was an exercise in pure communication. It is a language thing, where we communicate, much as you and I are doing, and don't bump into each other. A less experienced player would, more than likely, mess with the silences too much. Egos did not get in the way.

At one point, your sound almost is in the tuba range.

Yes, I can reach into those deep tuba levels where not many players are able to go and then whisper. Not many players can do that. My sound and Tony's sound and Cecil's sound mesh to perfection on this date.

Was there any mixing done on this recording?

No, there was none. What they did was tone down my sound when it was going to go into the red, but there was no mixing. They should have left it because distortion becomes part of the performance.

I am baffled by the criticism. This is you I am hearing. Anyone who has followed your work over the years can realize this is you.

I don't think they wanted to be questioned about anything, and this is their payback. There were a considerable number of the writers and journalists who were upset with some of the issues that I had presented at the press conference earlier in the day. These writers don't want to be questioned about any of the things they write, especially by musicians. If it were only a review, readers would not be able to contest or question the critical 'assessments' of these writers. But since the concert was recorded, with the music and performance to be released as a CD, people will be able to hear and ascertain the merits of the performance for themselves.

THE ITALIAN CONNECTION

You mentioned your Italian affinity with Soul Note. You seem to have had a solid relationship with Giovanni Bonandrini.

I had a great relationship with him. Whenever I had something to record, I would contact him and he would do it. You see, I am not like a lot of musicians. I could not record every year even if the opportunity were there. I don't feel about it that way. I have to approach it and not peak myself. We are all prisoners to our clichés, anyway. I never recorded with any other record company when I was recording exclusively for Soul Note with the exception of the Collection recording with Cadence and then the FMP record. Giovanni's son is now running the company, and I haven't heard anything from them in some time.

Soul Note does not have a distributorship in the states now, so your music is not readily available.

I saw something where Allegro is supposed to be their distributor, but I do not know. Even Amazon is having trouble getting the records. I do not know what the story is. This limits the availability of my records to the interested public and is somewhat of a dilemma.

Were you an expatriate in Italy?

I have been going to Italy since 1980, but I always went to do work. I did not live overseas, because I do not like running around with everything I own in a paper bag. I had been going to Paris regularly, but I had never been to Italy. When I stepped off the plane at Malpenza airport in 1980, I realized I loved Italy. I love Milan also. When there I stayed for many years at the Hotel Capital. I had a special room, and I loved it there. Italy and I have a love affair going on, and they have always treated me with the utmost respect.

How is it that you made two volumes of several Soul Note's, starting with In Italy?

The year 1980 was an important year for me. I was playing a concert in Verona in 1980, and Giovanni came down from Milan to see it. He never went to see any artists, but he drove to Verona to see me. Originally, I had a contract to do one recording, and after hearing the concert, he said he really wanted two recordings. I told him I had not come prepared to do two recordings, but he showed up at the hotel with an advance that made me find a way to do two recordings. That's the genesis of Bill Dixon in Italy, Volumes l and 2, and we continued the practice with Vade Mecum and Papyrus.

BODY OF WORK

You touched on a subject that I am particularly interested in. Several musicians, most notably Anthony Braxton, have meticulously documented their careers on record, yet your recorded history is sparse in comparison. Why have you not been more visible on record over the years?

Anthony, who is a very intelligent person, has also been able to elicit the attention of some of the people, in and out of music who have been able to get things done. In addition, his persona and the what and how of how he does things, even extra-musically, for whatever reason, has managed to be attractive to the people that counted. I myself am not really interested in the kinds of things writers generally want to ascribe to Black musicians and the idea of Black music. I do not consider myself an exotic, I don't speak about things unless I have had empirical experiences with them, I am not a theorist to the degree that I am interested in talking about things that are only theoretical and that have no immediate way of effecting implementation. Graham Lock, a talented and committed writer-historian on this music, whom I like, did the first book on Anthony called Forces in Motion. It is a very good book and gives you some indication of what a musician does. Graham asked me to contribute something to another book on Anthony, but I had to decline. Writers, unlike musicians, know the power and impact of the printed page. Whether the words and ideas expressed are incomprehensible or not, their intention is clear, to draw attention both to the works and the creator of those works. And that has helped Anthony immeasurably.

Ornette Coleman appears to have been well documented.

Yes, Ornette has been well documented, although, with the possible exceptions of George Russell and Gunther Schuller, I don't know anyone who has been able to document with clarity what Ornette does, from a theoretical basis. I don't know anyone, aside from the two aforementioned musicians-composers, who really understands the practical musicological applications possible and the underlying philosophy of Harmolodics, but it has proved to be an attractive thing for the writers.

Writers also seem to have favored Sun Ra and certainly Cecil.

Sun Ra, his music and his approach to the realization of that music, was also attractive to the writers that way. Cecil, his work and his approach to that work, is and has been of interest to these writers not because they have taken the time to come to terms with him as the musical phenomenon that he is—I think they find it incredibly difficult to deal with his music—but because they have found it easier and more expedient to deal with him as a personality. They deal with the finality he brings into the room and the personality, coupled with how it makes them feel. The music and what and how it does what it does, totally eludes them. The same thing, on a different level was the case with Miles Davis. I had to tell someone recently, who sent me one of the plethora of new books that have been published on Davis' work, that if Miles had realized he was as important as he is now posthumously, it is theoretically possible to assume he might have felt compelled to entirely re-think some of the later musical situations he was involved with and initiated. But I realize that that is also conjecture and borders on the posing of what might be considered the 'tough question.'

You obviously have done that.

Yes, on occasions when I have found it necessary, I have. I am not interested in petty gossip; I am not interested in who sells the most records and the politicizing of economics that makes that possible. I am not interested in a body politic of the largely uninformed who attempt to politically designate certain people as deserving of wider recognition. You become problematical to them. They can write easily and voluminously about certain periods, those periods where they have been musically and socially comfortable. But they can only attempt to extract from certain other periods, those periods where they have been not as secure socially, and certainly not that comfortable musically. You can see where the holes are in what they wrote. With regards to my own work, everyone knows what I have attempted and a lot of what I did was under-acknowledged because it was not liked. But what has liking to do with it. Whether you are liked or your work is liked are two factors that you have absolutely no control over and that do not get rid of the fact of that work's creation. It's a natural human expectation to want credit for what we think we have done. You do something 20 years ago, and someone replicates it now and gets the credit. That will naturally breed resentment. Also, the way things are inequitably parceled out that could conceivably aid you in the realization of your work, also breeds resentment. A Utopian idea would have us, one day in the future, coming to a point where even the idea of certain works being excluded from people, would not only be wrong, but illegal. You never hear of musicians and composers from this area of music being invited to Congress to speak about any of the things, pro or con that make up or affect society.

You hear rock musicians doing it.

Rock musicians, and a vast array of popular-music musicians, due to their wealth, acquired through the mass of their notoriety, are able to be listened to and heard and thus are able to effect change on an international level. They are easily able to address such issues as globalization, the environment, world hunger, and other issues of extreme social importance. And they are heard when they speak. But the membership of this music...

But those demands are what you say are causing people to say you do not fit the mold.

That was one of the problems with the Jazz Composers' Guild. It was too much even for the people involved in it. This is what we demand, and we will take nothing less. It is a social thing, and it is a musicological thing. There is a man today, and he is a good player, who is given all of the credit. I am very uncomfortable with that. I am also uncomfortable with statements made by White musicians that are not viewed the way the same statements made by Black musician are.

In what way?

In the way it is received. I have seen John Zorn speak to the issue of what he has designated as his roots and his culture, and they let him do it. If events prompt a Black musician to adopt the identical tactic, it is easily dismissed and labeled as playing the race card. I do not understand why we keep talking about making the audience for this music larger. It can't be any larger than it is. And why should it? Everyone isn't flocking to hear what you do. If I say something, they don't want to hear it. If other musicians say it, it was worthy of being listened to. How can we make this thing more equitable? Size of audience or size of body of recorded work for something to be deemed merit-worthy should have nothing to do with it. I have the complete set of the works of Anton Webern, and they fit on three LPs. Why do we only use numbers when it is convenient? Who are we today to say what will be extrapolated from what is being done in today's music as important 200 years from now? Who today knows what that classicism is going to be?

THE ART OF THE BASS

Do you favor the solo form?

Not really. Most of my recorded material has been in small group configurations. I have not released large orchestral works as recordings because it hasn't been within the realm of possibility.

What fascinates me most about your recordings is the love relationship you have with the bass—singly with Alan Silva, and doubly with various sets of bassists. What guidelines do you establish to get that kind of rapport where the bass sound just wraps around your trumpet.

In the sixties Alan Silva did some studies with me and a whole lot of duet playing. I don't know if I taught Alan anything. Alan was unteachable in a positive sense of the word because he had certain gifts, ideas he wanted to express and he had his own way of attempting to come to terms with their realization. The way we approached these 'studies' centered around the playing of duets. It has been my experience that if you extend a musician's workable vocabulary and teach placement of that vocabulary, much of what would be taught will automatically fall into place. You present the musician with the tools to finally be able to just do it. You play and then you correct yourself. Over and over and over again. I have also, after a certain point in my career, been fortunate enough to play with people who have had some kind of an understanding of what I wanted or was in pursuit of. Before the 1960s, the piano as an instrument set the harmonic tone. Unless you played like Cecil or Paul Bley, it did not, in my opinion, work that effectively for the group after that. So the piano, in my work, began being replaced by bass players. The bass provides a sort of liquid foundational formation that does not gravitationally tie you down. It is good at revealing and highlighting a certain harmonic pinpoint when one is either being looked for or needed. I had been attracted to the musical idea of two bass players for many years. I saw Ellington and Charlie Barnett make use of the idea in the large band even though they both had the bassists in tandem playing in pulsative time.

And of course later, Ornette did it with Scott LaFaro and Charlie Haden.

Yes, but the problem I have with that record is they are also dealing with metric time. They held on almost ferociously to the pull and force of metric time. One must eventually understand that time does not have to be forcibly tied down. The bass is an incredible instrument. I tell the musicians that I'll do certain things on the horn that will inform them about what they can select for utilization, if they feel that they need it. I suggest everything on the instrument. I no longer talk to people about what I want, if I can avoid it and the players don't require it. I knew after three minutes of Vade Mecum that everything was going to be fine. Barry and William played as if they were Siamese twins. They were incredible. The players have to be allowed to work; otherwise they slow the process down.

I noticed in the Berlin Abbozzi set that Matthias Bauer and Klaus Koch approached their work differently than, say, Barry and William did with you. It appeared that you were driving the ship totally. Is that a misconception on my part?

No, not at all. I would not say driving, though. There is a feeling tone that has propulsion and the ambience of an enclosure that permits being inside the enclosure or riding the crest of it. It is hard to explain. One has to listen and try to get inside of the sound. When I did the two-bass thing in 1964 with Hal Dodson and Dave Izenson, and if you listen to how it works with Jimmy Garrison and Reggie Workman on Intents and Purposes, and if you listen to the way its done with Alan Silva and Mario Pavone, and if you listen to the way it is done with Barry Guy and William Parker, you find there is a different reception to my playing. These men are not monkey men. They don't try to do what everyone else is doing. They respond to stimuli differently, and it is different with each of them.

Do you have a preference?

Whom do I prefer? Bauer had listened to my work and was most sensitive to it, but I think the two players who have certainly been the most dynamic and the freest in doing this have been William Parker and Barry Guy. But then again, all stimuli has an effect on my work. That summer was beautiful. I love Milan and it worked.

Those two players are capable of doing an entire concert on their own.

There was no competition. No one got into anyone's way; the listening syndrome was remarkable and the rapport was just uncanny.

ANALYSIS OF THE MUSIC

Your music has regularly been described as moody, melancholy, even morose, yet I hear a joyous tonality lurking within these darker passages. Do you subscribe to this Dark Knight theory, or do you feel you have been mislabeled with these generalizations?

If a person has never had steak, how do you tell them what it tastes like? For the longest time, people have said that about my work. More than one person. I don't know if they all hear it that way, or they just keep re-saying what someone else has said. I like the deep tones of the orchestra, and I like negotiating things there because you have a wider spectrum, if you decide to come out of that orchestrally, than you would if you weren't exploring down there. I think it has given me a wider pallet. I remember a very established musician-composer who said that he found my music depressing. One of the historically significant producers in this music, a man who prided himself as having discovered some of the most significant people in this music also, around the same time, told me he found my music depressing. He did not know how I could stay in one area so long. I understood what they were talking about. My answer was: How can you put a label on what a person is doing simply because it affects you in a certain way? So I have never found that to be true. I have found that people choose to typecast certain segments of my work, but that does not represent the totality of the work. Now, one thing that Odyssey should do is dispel this notion.

The six-CD box set covers what period of your career?

Odyssey traces my work from 1970 to 1992. Vade Mecum enters at 1993. I am covered up to the present time. I tell people that if you really want to know what I was doing, go to some of your same musicians and see what they were doing at the same time. You can do that now. And then measure. I have approached musical materials in a very, very personal way. There is no linkage to 'isms' from other areas of this music. You will find no clichés that belong to anyone else in my work. I do no quoting of popular tunes or folk tunes. I do no borrowing of anything. Pick four or five other trumpeters and play all from the same period and see what you come up with. You will find that at any point in time you choose, the materials I am attempting to do are not that broad-based, yet little by little, musicians are beginning to see what is here that they can now use. I recently heard a high school student on television attempting things similar to what Don Cherry did and what I do. This kid was listening externally, because the others in the band were doing straight jazz. The language and the literature of this music is more broadly based than people are willing to acknowledge. It isn't the materials or the approach to the use of the materials that is the problem. The problem is just that musicians haven't, at this point, found a dominant and enduring way to make use of it yet.

Isn't that disturbing that it takes a person's entire lifetime to achieve this?

It's very disturbing. But that is what happens when one's work and ideas don't receive adequate exposure. Odyssey has been sold in Reykjavik, Iceland, in Bosnia, Serbia, Japan—all of these places.

What is your distribution?

I have no formal or institutionalized distribution. I have no distributor. People who want to obtain Odyssey have to write here and get it. And since that is what is happening, on a small scale of course, it is indicative to me that there are these pockets of players and collectors all over. You should see the correspondence I get from over the world letting me know how significant they think I am. I know that wherever I go, I am well received. I am going to Vienna in September to do a thing for the 30th anniversary of the Wiener Musik Galerie.

With whom?

Originally I was asked to do something with the very talented percussionist Susie Ibarra, but I had to decline since I am not involved in the women's movement in music. <

She is an incredible drummer.

I very well understand that. I declined because I know the reason they wanted me to play with her was more political than musical. If Susie Ibarra called me on the phone and asked me to do something with her, I would consider it differently. Anyway, due to the fact that I am unable to maintain a staple and permanent working group for this event in Vienna I am fortunate to be able to do a quartet piece of music with Evan Parker, Warren Smith on vibes and tympani, and John Lindberg on bass. I'll do a quartet thing with them.

That is an unusual combination of musicians. Do you expect the dynamics of your music to be altered by this mix?

With the proper mixture, the dynamics of something changes because someone has insisted the dynamics change. I know exactly what I am going to attempt to do. If you understand why people do what they do, you can alter it to suit your direction. The magic of playing has to do with how much everyone wants it to succeed. If you have five players in a situation where the music is being improvised and one is determined it is not going to succeed, it won't succeed even if one of the musicians takes control. Freedom as a philosophy is allowed as long as the respect for it and responsibility to it are adhered to and understood. When it becomes an Olympics, someone has to referee or take charge. The leader in any group is expected to know more definitively what everyone in the group can do singularly or collectively than they do. The idea of a meaningful communal music is a fallacy. There is no democracy. There are all kinds of ways to suggest the direction with the what, when and how of the material presented in performance—eye contact, hand movement, the nature of what you are playing and how it is being heard and ingested by the players, etc. When it doesn't work, one does what has to be done to make it work.

It's scheduled for when?

September 20th. I'll get there, we'll rehearse and do the performance. The point I am trying to make is simply this: Whether I get adequate attention or not, people here do know the work I have been doing systematically and without compromise for over 40 years. I get tired of people making excuses for guys who don't continue the art because they can't make a living.

How long have you been a professional musician?

I started studying in 1946, and by 1948, I was playing. This was late, but I was a fanatic.

I hear two distinct approaches you take on solos—one where you use short, interrupted phrases and the other where you show a definite penchant for fluidity. Do you consciously plan how you are going to approach a given piece or concert, or does the inspiration of the moment dictate the direction you take?

It has always been the moment. Whereas I used to do very long, linear things, I think that stopped with the record Thoughts. I became more caught up with intervals, with the attempt to superimpose a kind of fluidity and linkage when the goal is to give intervallic ideas a linear construct. I worked on this principal quite diligently. I practice about six hours a day. When the moment to play arrives, I let the dictates of that experience inform and guide me relating to the ideas under scrutiny. That presents me with everything I am supposed to do. I make no plans. None whatsoever.

Truly spontaneous, then?

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