Berklee College of Music
The Focus on Emotion

A core member of the Berklee faculty since 1965, trombonist and composer Phil Wilson worked hard to overcome his musical obstacles, and inspires students to do the same.

 
Phil Wilson directs a Rainbow Band rehearsal.
Photo by Liz Linder
 
As the members of Phil Wilson's Rainbow Band gather for rehearsal, each musician walks into the room carrying not only a different instrument, but a different accent as well. There's an Italian pianist, a Spanish drummer, a Japanese trombonist, and a Danish vibraphonist. The group's cacophonic warm-up increases in volume with each new entrant while Wilson pulls music charts out of his overstuffed leather briefcase and drops them onto stands in front of each musician. He's shouting instructions over the din, occasionally erupting into a full-body guffaw, and looking quite content to be a man charged with the responsibility of turning mayhem into music.

Slithering through the smorgasbord of sound comes hints of the melody of "Giant Steps." Two saxophone players catch each others' eyes as they realize they have simultaneously stumbled on the Coltrane standard that every jazz student works to master. Within moments, most of the band joins in though the tune is not currently in the Rainbow Band's repertoire.

Wilson waves his right arm in the air to begin the rehearsal, but the band presses on with the melody. He waves both arms in the air and everyone quiets down except for the two saxophonists, quietly trying to get to the end of the 32-bar form.

"Hey!" Wilson yells. Now the room is quiet. "The song . . . has . . . ended," he says sternly. Every musician knows enough English to discern the bandleader's message: Phil Wilson is running this band, and it's time to get to work.

Working with a diverse crop of students has long been Wilson's calling card at Berklee. He was brought to Berklee in 1965 to be its trombone guru, and shortly after his arrival, started a renegade after-hours ensemble that met in his office, sometimes practiced in the dark, and for some reason, always seemed to attract large numbers of international students. The group also became home to some of the best players in school. Among Wilson's former student band members are Cyrus Chestnut '85, John Scofield '73, Ernie Watts '66, Terri Lyne Carrington '83, Bill Pierce '73, Roy Hargrove '89, and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones' Dennis Brockenborough '91.

After originally dubbing the group Thursday Night Dues Band, Wilson changed its name to the Rainbow Band in 1985.The group performed its 35th anniversary concert at the Berklee Performance Center on December 5.

From Toots to Debussy: Phil's Favorites
Bill Evans with Toots Thielemans, "Affinity"
Duke Ellington: "Such Sweet Thunder," Far East Suite," and "Harlem Suite"
Miles Davis, "Porgy and Bess"
Louis Armstrong, "Satchmo at Symphony Hall"
Almost anything by J.S. Bach, Debussy, Ravel, Oscar Peterson Trio, and the Nat Cole Trio
 
"Music is something that borders of countries can't contain," says Wilson, who has led the band on trips to Barbados, France, Guyana, the Dominican Republic, Surinam, El Salvador, and Honduras.

In similar fashion, the Rainbow Band's repertoire, though rooted in jazz, often travels beyond typical boundaries of music. In recent performances, the group has moved from gospel to world music, and has taken on the work of composers as diverse as Jerome Kern, Stevie Wonder, and Nicolas Sorin, a 21-year-old Argentinian Jazz Composition major.

"Selection of music is tremendously important," Wilson says. "I always play to the strength of the players. Sometimes you find strengths in players you're not aware of at first, and you try to bring them out."

Regardless of what talents individual students posess, Wilson always emphasizes two particular aspects of being a performing musician: emotion and focus.

"I talk a lot about the emotional content of what they are doing," Wilson says. "I want them to think about how they're playing the notes. It's about their attitude, whether they're having fun or not."

"One of the biggest problems musicians run into is difficulty focusing. You have to be able to focus on reading your part, but you also have to keep in mind the harmonic framework of the tune and see the piece as a whole. You need focus so you can go on automatic. Sometimes I'll stop a student and say, 'Just where is your mind?' You'd be amazed at the answers I get."

The rehearsal room is silent as Wilson shuffles charts on his stand. "Why don't we warm up with 'Kilgore Trout,'" he says. "Yeah, right, warm up," one of the band members says with a smile, knowing that the tune is one of the most difficult they're working on. Keyboardist Lyle Mays wrote "Kilgore Trout" when he was Wilson's student in the early 1970s. It is a particularly tricky tune for the horn players, as it features a complex melody and equally challenging background lines.

"One, two, uh-uh-uh-uh," Wilson counts, and the rhythm section begins a vamp that serves as an introduction to the tune. Moments after the saxophones and brass enter, Wilson waves the band to silence. "You were a little off there, Kenzoku," he says to the trombone player. "It's like this." Wilson explains what he's looking for by clapping on the second and fourth beats of each measure while singing the rhythm. The trombone player nods his head and then plays the phrase exactly how Wilson has just sung it. "Yeah, babe," Wilson says. He'll deliver the two words quietly or with great gusto, depending on the circumstances, but it's always a clear indication that he's happy with what he's just heard.

"Okay, let's try it again."


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"I couldn't see blocks of notes."




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