Thursday, April 23, 2026

I’ve heard this song before…















Does art need to be provocative, challenging the status quo?


Should the process of art-making be front-loaded with ideas and prerequisites to notions of validity?


Do artists have any responsibility to society?


Should artists be advocating, telling anyone else what to do or simply speak for themselves?


What is activism?  What is quietism?  What is ism?


Are humanitarian and universal values in art evasive of the problems that people experience?  Or are they inclusive?


What is culture in the digital age?  Is there culture in the digital age?


What is the spark, the urgency that drives the creative process?



This slew of questions came to mind upon reading a book review in which the word “quietism” was used, rather pejoratively, towards an author whom the critic felt did not take enough risk in presenting their opinions.  It’s not a word I’ve seen used much other than in old zen stories in which teachers who espoused the use of koans (a kind of problem to concentrate on in meditation) used it to criticize other teachers who espoused a more open contemplative approach.  And that’s probably overblown, more a matter of pointing out the potential pitfalls in either approach, aggression on the one hand and passivity on the other.  In seeing it used in a literary forum I decided to look it up and was surprised to find that it has a history relating to western philosophy as well as Christianity.  


In Catholic theology quietism refers to late seventeenth century contemplative and mystical practices oriented towards absorption into the Divine Essence that were ultimately deemed heretical by the church.  In later times the term referred to religious practice that eschewed political activism.  In early Western philosophy (second or third century) quietism was associated with a philosopher named Sextus Empiricus who espoused Pyrrhonism, describing it as a form of philosophical therapy.   He felt that philosophy had no positive thesis to contribute.  Rather than settling debates Pyrrhonism was intended to liberate the mind by diagnosing confusing concepts.  More contemporary expressions of this idea came from Wittgenstein who influenced the “ordinary language” philosophers who considered philosophical problems to be the result of linguistic misunderstandings.  


That’s paraphrasing wikipedia in as much as this is all quite new to me.  If I’d have known about this when I was younger it might have spared me a fair bit of angst.  I recall my college philosophy course (a subject that actually interested me) as being an exercise in the high tedium of intellectual conflict, reducing the whole of Western thought into a litany of arguments and refutations starting with the assertion “I think, therefore I am” and going downhill from there.  Or perhaps I simply checked out mentally on the whole thing being that my real interests lay elsewhere and I was hungry for life experience.  In reading about this now it resonates with a certain tension that I’ve long felt in considering the role of music and art in society, namely the need to speak to real issues and the need to allow the creative process free and unrestricted rein into the unknown.  I’ve alluded to this in a number of previous posts and have never felt completely resolved about it.  I’m not alone in this and sympathize with what my fellow artists are going through yet I’m at a loss when it comes to identifying a singular ethos that satisfies all parties in all situations.  


As in…what’s the solution?  


What if there is no solution?  


What if the situation is hopeless?  


No one likes hopelessness but what if we allow for the possibility just long enough to imagine the implications?  How far do they go?  What form could we possibly apply to the process?  Somewhere I read an interview with a physicist who tried to describe what happens when a black hole collapses.  All I remember about it was the poetic way he put it, something akin to, death dies with death.  Somehow that sounds reasonable, assuring even.  That which we are most afraid of.  Does this help in any way on planet earth as we struggle to address our problems?


This verse from the Tao Te Ching showed up in something I recently read…


“Throw away morality and justice, and people will do the right thing.”


Pretty drastic, eh?  Kind of goes against everything we seem to be fighting for.  Maybe it strikes you as a form of anarchy.  Or perhaps it’s pointing towards something else, the artifice that comes with making an ideology out of natural goodness, and then using that ideology as a weapon, in the name of goodness!  I think there are a number of ways one might understand this statement (made three thousand years ago) but I don’t think it’s espousing that we do away with any of the tools we need to navigate the relative world.  That may seem contradictory when seen as dualistic, which is actually OK because it’s the product of thought.  It becomes a problem when we can’t see that and act out of a misguided belief.


I suppose this has become a theme on the blog, and yet I keep thinking that this time everything is suddenly going to be OK and there will be no need to bring it up again.  There is a tension around this issue in that I used to speak out pretty strongly on social and political issues but it didn’t help, it made me feel worse, in ways I didn’t understand.  That doesn’t mean it’s hopeless and not to speak out.  Plenty of artists do speak out and with good reason.  But perhaps it’s hopeless in a more positive sense.  We are all going to die.  I think that means that we’re already free, we just need to make some effort in realizing it.  No matter what you choose to do, how that effort is directed makes all the difference.  You can see it in the way it affects other people and you don’t have to be a sage to feel that.


As for those questions posed at the top, they’re OK, it’s just that they are all imposed before the fact.  Too far ahead of the beat, as it were.  Let’s see if we can find a better groove…












Saturday, April 18, 2026

Upcoming Solo Concert / May 3rd



We’re just a couple weeks out from my solo concert taking place at the Zen Center of New York City on May 3rd.  The address is 500 State Street located in the Boerum Hill neighborhood of Brooklyn.  It begins at 3 pm which allows for a comfortable start to your day and an entire open evening afterwards.  If you’re near enough and so inclined please consider registering soon as seating is limited.  









In preparation I’ve been practicing more recently, giving less time for rumination on the world which is probably a good thing.  So I have nothing to offer by way of essay although not for lack of trying.  The process for that usually involves haphazardly jotting down thoughts and ideas, throwing them into a pile and coming back once in a while to see if anything gels.  In looking over notes from the past several months most of them found their way to the trash without much second guessing.  Certain patterns emerge, repetitious to the point of annoyance.  But if there were to be a discernible theme amongst them it might involve intention, as in what is the motivation for expressing oneself verbally in a more or less public forum, particularly at this current moment in time?  Angst is a powerful motivator, no matter how you might try to dress it up to put a positive face on it.  It might even seem trivializing to do so and yet it is undeniably important to allow for the motivation of what is positive.  It’s easy to think of this in terms of opposition but that seems to create the very obstacle in allowing what is truly positive to find you.  I’m not going to try and prescribe a solution for this in as much as it all has to be taken in, dynamically.  As important as it is to stay informed and engage with what is meaningful it is just as important (if not more so) to stay with whatever it is you’re doing at the moment.  For example, riding the subway can give rise to any number of anxieties.  Some of them may actually be related to what I am seeing and experiencing but I habitually find myself amplifying and projecting a great deal beyond the direct experience of just riding the subway.  Granted, it’s odd to be contained in a metal box clattering along a narrow tunnel under the ground.  Perhaps all the more reason to actually be riding the subway while I’m on it.  When I can do so there is more to be seen.  It requires a certain amount of intention and it’s dawning on me that this kind of intention is in fact the most positive kind of motivation I can tap into.  No need to deny what is clearly problematic in the world.  And no need to deny ourselves of what is good, because without that there is no way to address anything or help anyone.


Having said that...in order to fill things out a bit, here are a couple of things in keeping with the theme of music making…



Further lessons learned…


Weekly early music concerts from GEMS continue to inspire and illuminate.  Flutist Kelsey Burnham recently delivered a solo recital of Telemann (Fantasias 1 and 3), Bach (Partita in A minor) and Kuhlau (Fantasy for Solo Flute) demonstrating an impressive range of interpretation on music that would appear simple and straightforward when seen on the page.  At least that’s been my superficial impression in looking at the scores of Telemann and Bach, pieces that I’ve been practicing on saxophone for some years now.  Kelsey Burnham dispelled any notions that this music is in any way locked down.


I had the opportunity to chat briefly with Kelsey (turns out she’s from a neighborhood in Baltimore not far from where I grew up) and got some tips on how she approaches this music in practice, the first and most important being to sing it.  She also pointed out how phrases tend to carry through into downbeats.  The most surprising (and encouraging) revelation was that she articulates the phrases differently each time she performs them.  Something I can relate to!


Interestingly, at the time this music was written the notion of the “public concert series” was almost nonexistent.  Turns out it was Telemann himself who was instrumental (no pun intended) in getting the concept rolling.  It makes one wonder about the effect of context over time as musical culture “accumulates” to the point that we often get to hear programs that range in time over centuries.  A concentrated concert like the one Kelsey presented is all the more impressive given the amount of music we are aware of in 2026 such that compositions from three hundred years ago become just as alive as when they were written.



Bassist Melvin Gibbs has a new book out…


I first heard Melvin Gibbs at a jazz festival in Switzerland with the group “Harriet Tubman” (with guitarist Brandon Ross and drummer JT Lewis) performing for an audience that wasn’t quite ready to take in what they had to say.  I was impressed both by the music and the way they handled the situation.  Melvin and I chatted and soon after I called on him to play on my recording “Ten”, released in 2004.


“Ten” was a completely improvised session and if you listen to the tracks that Melvin plays on you’ll appreciate how essential the architecture he provided was to the music, not just through the role of the bass sonically but through his compositional awareness overall.  It’s a perspective that comes from knowing music on a macro level as well as having expertise in one’s own instrumental domain.


His book is called “How Black Music Took Over the World”.  That’s a very big title considering how much music is being considered.  However, the pre-release announcements allude to an autobiographical approach to his overview which seems appropriate given Melvin’s cross-cultural involvement in a wide range of music during his life.  In The New York Times he stresses that his aim was “primarily inspirational” adding that “it’s about overcoming”.  This from a musician with an informed perspective.  I’m looking forward to reading.