Music works in mysterious ways. Take the latest project by Erik Friedlander
. Some time ago, the New York cellist went to an exhibition of six absinthe glasses by Pablo Picasso at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. Despite the somewhat abstract and deconstructed nature of these sculptures, he got inspired to write some of the most tactile, swinging, even groovy, music he has ever composed. Perhaps Throw a Glass, the name he chose for this project, represents just that: reversing abstraction. Be as it may, this is the jazziest
outing to date for Friedlander, but it is jazz with the same dangerous twist that can be found in Picasso's glasses after all his quartet features some of the most adventurous New York musicians, Uri Caine
on piano, Mark Helias
on bass and Ches Smith
We reached out to Erik Friedlander to talk about his new project and its visually stunning release Artemisia
[Skipstone Records]. To listen to music from Artemisia, as well as to excerpts of this interview, play the archived podcast of Mondo Jazz [starting at 1:07:29]. All About Jazz
: Your latest project was inspired by Picasso's absinthe glass sculptures which you saw at the Museum of Modern Art, in New York. It is a series of six sculptures which depicts a drinking glass with the front cut away to reveal the liquid inside, and perched on the rim is a sugar cube atop an absinthe spoon. Each is painted differently on an identical bronze form. What did you see in those sculptures that triggered your own creative process? Erik Friedlander
: I just found those sculptures to be both charming and kind of dangerous at the same time. Just like Picasso's own relationship with absinthe was a complicated one. As you said, these big glasses were torn away around the front, revealing the inside. That made me wonder what was Picasso trying to say about absinthe. They were kind of beautiful but they also struck me as involving some kind of danger. There were six of them all from different collections and it was a miracle that they were all together. This MOMA exhibit got me thinking. There is so much rich material about absinthe and its history as a brain bending hallucinogenic. It was interesting how it developed this bad reputation when on closer examination it is just booze... The wine and beer producers felt quite threatened by its increasing popularity. It was getting so popular because people talked about the miracles and inspiration it brought, a lot of great artists used it... So wine and beer producers helped spread rumors of the poisonous effects that absinthe had and how it was ruining people's lives. Probably not any more than regular alcohol. All of that gave me some ideas. AAJ
: What compositional techniques did you use to translate the inspiration from Picasso's absinthe glass sculptures at MoMA into music? EF
: As a starting point I looked at the two school of thoughts concerning absinthe. According to one, when you drink it you become meditational and thoughtful; according to the other you drink it to chase a high. And so I kind of worked from those two poles working on pieces that were like meditations on obsession and others that optimistically chase euphoria and the "green fairy." At the end that was just a starting point and then I let the material dictate where it wants to go.
For instance this is what happened with "The Great Revelation." I started with this bass line that came to me after listening to a Kendrick Lamar song. I took that inspiration and molded it with the absinthe concept that I had going. That bass line was odd and a little difficult to play but it was kind of cool. It was in five. And I alternated it with a four-four figure, I developed this piano and voicing that I really love that had kind of a jazz feel, but also a stark feel to it. As I mentioned earlier, I let the material dictate the direction. I just start writing and I follow through instinctually. I use my ears and playing the cello and keyboards. I am not picky about where I find my answers as long as I find them. AAJ
: Did this process of letting the music dictate where to continued in the recording studio? EZ
: A good example is our recording of the tune "Sparkotropic." It's one of my favorite pieces on the record. Something happened in the recording session, which was kind of cool. It's kind of subtle, but you can hear it. I had an organized plan and it was supposed to go from a cello solo to piano solo, which it does, but it was supposed to do it in a certain way, starting with a loose time and building it up into a groove. It didn't happen that way. We got to the end of the cello solo, I was in the booth looking around trying to get a cue and we just found our way to doing a completely different thing to start the piano solo, which took over where I left off. I remember looking at Ches and he was shaking his head like "this is great!" The result was better than we had planned. It was kind of magic and I think that leads to a feeling.
In general, I am not after perfection. What I'm after are those moments of synchronicity, of a counterpoint, harmony or dissonance, whatever they may be, where the band is thinking and responding like one, like a multi-part animal.