“How about we create a sense of improvisation, as if performing in a tea room?”

—Why did you title this work, the soundscape of Midtown, "Hana to Mizu"?

This is a concept proposed by Matsuo Basho, and more precisely, it's "Hana ni Mizu." If I used that directly as the title, Basho's image would be too strong. I wanted something broader, more "Japonisme," not limited to Basho.

—Did the image of Midtown inspire you?


—The album features a lot of improvisation (inpro) rather than composed songs. It seems rare to find albums like this these days.

Half of the tracks are improvisations. Of course, artists like Derek Bailey, who are masters of hardcore improvisation, perform entirely through improvisation (laughs). But a mix of half improvisation and half composed pieces is something we've been doing since our live performances.

The sound isn't overly dense, so the goal is to make it difficult to distinguish between improvisation and composition as you listen to each track. It's like a transformation of haiku, where improvisation feels like a composition, and composition feels improvisational. But aren't haiku, ikebana, tea ceremony, and sumi-e painting highly improvisational? Historically, there have been many instances of "Japonisme" that draw analogies between jazz improvisation and these arts. It's a kind of Orientalism, with excessive use of the shakuhachi, for example (laughs). This time, however, the image was different.

When Japanese people embrace "Japanese-ness," they inevitably exoticize it.

—The album has a generally calm atmosphere. Was this influenced by Midtown?

No, not at all (laughs).
The serene quality of this work isn't due to Midtown; it stems from the theme of "Hana to Mizu."

—So the title perfectly captures the album's mood.

In any case, I asked Minami-san to "play with fewer notes"—because skilled jazz pianists can play much more expansively. It's essentially minimalism. So, we approached it as if performing in a tea ceremony setting.

—How did you first meet Minami-san?

Minami-san is an essayist, but he comes from the Waseda University Modern Jazz Society, a circle with the most influential connections in the Japanese jazz scene, and later studied at the Berklee College of Music. I met him shortly after he returned to Japan. When I wanted to perform in Japan after returning, I didn't have any band members, so I was introduced through a mutual acquaintance. I believe it was around '89 or '90.

—The album includes covers. What was the selection criteria?

I made the selections, choosing pieces that would sound good when performed in this style. Also, the theme this time is "Jazz Japonisme," in other words, "Japanese-ness." Following YMO, a trend of "Exotic Japan" emerged. "Exotic Japan" is reminiscent of Hiromi Go (laughs).
However, when Japanese people engage with "Japanese-ness," they are inherently forced into a state of exoticization. We don't wear kimonos, practice tea ceremony or ikebana, or read haiku. We're practically not Japanese anymore. Therefore, when we do something that seems "Japanese," it becomes a parody at that very stage. This signifies the breakdown of essentialism. There are many such musical examples. Jazz also has a history of "Japonisme," like Masao Koga playing folk songs (laughs). There were many in the 70s and 80s.
Nevertheless, in this simple style of soprano saxophone and piano, we're not playing folk songs or using Japanese scales. When considering the newest form of "Jazz Japonisme," I felt it would be better to perform jazz pieces composed in the 1930s and 40s. So, all the songs are jazz standards, and I chose ones that would sound good when played quietly.




Nels Cline Official Website
http://www.kikuchinaruyoshi.com/