Horvitz’s 188 Sullivan: Varèse meets Bird

On February 24, 2020, Seattle Modern Orchestra premiered a work by composer and pianist Wayne Horvitz, 188 Sullivan: Varèse meets Bird. In this blog post, Horvitz shares a few words about the piece.

Composer and pianist Wayne Horvitz – photo credit: Daniel Sheehan

The Meeting
Long thought to be an admirer of Varèse, Parker met with him several times in 1954 at his residence at 188 Sullivan Street to discuss the possibility of lessons. “Take me in as you would a baby,” Parker implored of Varèse, “and teach me music. I only write one voice. I want to have structure. I want to write orchestral scores.” Parker himself had been influenced by the tumultuous music of Stravinsky and had a dream to unify jazz and classical music into a new genre; he loved the idea of playing with a string section and recorded Charlie Parker with Strings, a session of six ballads recorded with chamber and jazz orchestras. Varèse recalled that “[Parker] was so nice, and so modest, and he had such a tone. You could not know if it was an angelic double bass, a saxophone, or a bass clarinet … I promised myself I would try to find some time to show him some of the things he wanted to know.” Unfortunately, the lessons never occurred: Varèse returned to Paris to complete work on his piece Desèrts, and Parker suffered a heart attack and died of complications prior to Varèse’s return in 1955. While we may never know what collaborations may have arisen from their lessons, Varèse continued to be influenced by jazz throughout the remainder of his career, and attended jazz sessions with Charles Mingus, Art Farmer, Teo Macero, and other illustrious contemporaries of Parker.

The Piece
Charlie Parker was perhaps the greatest icon in the history of American jazz music. Brilliant and controversial, an inordinate amount of attention was paid to his excesses in lifestyle and the blazing tempos of his improvisations. This belied what we know of him from many accounts — his deep intelligence and intellectualism, his broad taste in music and art, his brilliant wit, and his keen observation of the world and its inhabitants.

Parker’s musical influence on improvisers in the jazz idiom was almost inexplicable. As brilliant as he was, it was not as if he wasn’t surrounded by wildly inventive peers and elders. For every alto player who aspired to become the next Johnny Hodges, thousands more imitated Bird. I assume there are multiple factors, including some degree of serendipity. Some have suggested that Parker’s innovations were not easy to imitate, but perhaps easier to analyze. From a musicological perspective, Parker’s approach to resolving to chord tunes, his use of leading tones and “enclosures” wasn’t that far from melodic devices found in Mozart — much like Coltrane shared approaches to intervals also found in Messiaen, Stravinsky and Schoenberg.

In addition, Charlie Parker died just as the idea of a formal jazz pedagogy began to emerge — and a tremendous amount of that pedagogy was based directly on the harmonic, melodic and rhythmic approaches that emerged from be-bop.

Of course, the idea of Jazz Education holding equal status with European traditions has been the victim of historical racism, and still is today. We still see music departments divided in two, and fundamental attitudes about jazz, and even improvisation, persist. Even the notion of Parker knocking on Varèse’s door to study with him creates the wrong impression. Igor Stravinsky went to hear Charlie Parker play, Varèse was stunned to find this genius pursuing him, and Toru Takemitsu famously stated “my teachers are Duke Ellington, and nature”. With the possible exception of Schoenberg and the Viennese school, almost all the seismic changes in 20th century Euro-centric music were a result of non-European influences, many of them related to jazz and Afro-centric American idiomatic forms.

To me, the story of Varèse and Charlie Parker is really the story of urban America, and especially New York City. Who wouldn’t you go see the premiere of an experimental composer at 7:30 and then go to the Five Spot later that evening? I know I would have! The institutions may have been slow to change, but this was the story of human beings — actual musicians with deep passions and curious, open minds. Varèse meets Bird, Gunter Schuller champions Ornette, and Charles Mingus and Earle Brown are hanging out in a loft in lower Manhattan, working out graphic scores and structures for improvisation. The rest is just left to the squares.

Parker was famous for his catholic taste in music. It not only came as a surprise to some that Parker was engaged with 20th century new music, but also that he loved the Tommy Dorsey band. And by all accounts he was a fan of Hank Williams. Why would that be a surprise? What sort of soul wouldn’t love Hank Williams? Parker was an extremely literate musician, he appreciated great musicianship, and great artistry. Despite some revisionist history, Charlie Parker with Strings was not a record company’s attempt to increase sales, but Charlie Parker’s idea (Mitch Miller was the producer, who had also produced Hank Williams). And he plays like an angel, soaring above the Jimmy Carrol arrangements.

Analysis:
I: The first movement is directly inspired by Charlie Parker with Strings, and the initial four-note motif is the opening melody to “Out of Nowhere”, the famous ballad performed so elegantly on the original recordings. Hints of percussion and electronics are my way of imagining New York City at that time, and the incredible concurrence of sound in the music and on the street.

II: Is inspired by the dramatic changes in the tempo of life in urban America, and the tempo of be-bop.

III: This takes the famous first 16 bars of Parker’s solo on his composition Anthropology and reimagines it rhythmically and harmonically. The form on the clarinet solo is, like Anthropology, based on the changes to George Gershwin’s “I’ve Got Rhythm”. I have kept the root motion, and the harmonic rhythm, albeit with a much slower tempo and very different harmonic structures. Plus a hint of Bernard Herrmann, the remarkable film composer.

IV: The subtitle of this movement is “995 Fifth Avenue”, which was the address of the Baroness Pannonica de Koenigswarter — Charlie Parker’s great patron, friend, and confidant. As Parker became ill, “Nica” insisted that he come to her apartment, and summoned her Upper East Side physician. Parker died shortly thereafter. Her neighbors were so outraged that a black man died in her apartment, as was the press and the rest of “high society”, that the baroness was forced to move.

V: Is inspired by Varèse’s “Ionisation.”

VI: As mentioned above, Parker may have expanded some of the pitch choices considered acceptable in the standard repertoire of chord changes, but above all he was a superb melodist, and capable of breathing new fire into long-practiced approaches to melodic lines. The theme explores some of those approaches in a less tonal context, as befits the spirit of this evening.

VII: The final movement is subtitled “Electronic Poem” as in Varèse’s completely revolutionary composition Poème Électronique. I only wish Varèse had collaborated with Parker. I would have liked to hear Charlie Parker play with Hank Williams! There is a story that Bob Dylan sat in with Cecil Taylor once! These are the reasons I love music.

I would like to thank Julia Tai, the Seattle Modern Orchestra and all the musicians, James Falzone, Angela Brown, Seattle Opera for this evening’s concept and their continued support, the folks at KNKX, and the amazing D’Vonne Lewis and his incredible band. And as always, the staff at the Royal Room.

I hope you enjoy the music.
Wayne Horvitz
Seattle, WA 2020