|
Verbal Vibist
A talented musician reveals his philosophical side.
By Rob Hochschild
Berklee.edu Editor
July 25, 2002
|
 |
|
Photo by Justin A. Knight |
| |
|
Musicians are often better at playing their instruments than they are at talking about how they play them. Stefon Harris, on the other hand, is a man who does both with equal skill. And considering his mastery of vibraphone and marimba, that's saying a lot. At a recent clinic, music and words spilled out of him with so much virtuosity, intelligence, and emotion, you could only wonder how someone so young—Harris is 28—could have come so far.
Harris's Dr. Warrick L. Carter Lecture began with a performance of "Bags' Groove," a minor blues that Harris and three bandmates turned inside out, moving from straight-ahead jazz to a free section in the middle to an improvised tag at the song's end. Harris, who played a solo of about 25 choruses, was accompanied by his pianist Xavier Davis, and Berklee students Petar Slavov on bass and Kendrick Scott on drums. The rendition highlighted not only Harris's endless store of improvisational ideas, but the band's ability to listen and react to each other, even more impressive considering that the two visiting musicians had never before played with the two students.
"I love coming onto the bandstand with people I don't know," Harris said after the tune. "You have to have trust and respect for one another. As a leader, I see myself as being at the front of an amorphic bubble and pushing it. We are all gliding together."
With two Blue Note albums out as a leader, Harris has ample experience as both a frontman and as a sideman. He has recorded with many top artists, including Joe Henderson, Wynton Marsalis, and Charlie Hunter. But Harris says it was his classical training that helped him first learn the importance of knowing one's role in any musical group. He urged students to be humble when they are asked to accompany another musician.
"Attitude is very important," said Harris. "A lot of musicians don't work as much as they could because they have a chip on their shoulder. If someone wants you in their band, memorize as much of their music as you can. Get inside their head. Ask lots of questions. Find out what they want to do with their music."
|
 |
|
"The (compositional) process is one of discovery, not creation," said Harris. |
|
Photo by Justin A. Knight |
| |
|
When a student asked about Harris's approach to composition, his first impulse was to remind everyone that music is made for the audience, and that a musician's central goal is to find a way of connecting with listeners. As for the writing process, Harris sees himself primarily as a conduit for music.
"Music is a reflection of a person's inner spirit," said Harris. "My objective is not to create but to write down what is already there. The process is one of discovery, not creation. I'm trying to listen and write down whatever I hear. A lot of times I'll sit at a piano and strike a note and wait for another note to come. I'll wait for 20 minutes or an hour or I'll wait for a second. After a while I'll come up with eight, nine notes, and they'll tell you what to do."
To demonstrate the concept, Harris asked audience members to shout out numbers between 1 and 7, while Davis played notes on the piano corresponding to the numbers. After various students yelled out a sequence of numbers representing the circle of fifths—3,6,2,5,1—Harris yelled "Stop it!" with a grin, trying to break students of the compulsion to rely on patterns and rules. After Davis played the next sequence of random numbered notes, Harris said he could hear a "tangible breath" between two of the notes and that the sequence sounded like a rich chord.
"There are no rules," Harris said. "Write down whatever you hear. You could play any four notes. It's not about a chord, but a sound."
A question about music business prompted Harris to tell the story of how he landed his record deal. He told students that one of the keys to his success was finding the right people to work with before he signed on with a record company.
"The most important decision you're going to make in your career is the first person you put on your team," Harris said. "Most people choose their manager. Your manager is not a partner but someone who can teach you what the business is all about."
 |
|
| Professional Education Division Dean Lawrence McClellan (right) presents Harris with a plaque commemorating his Carter Lecture. |
|
| Photo by Justin A. Knight |
|
|
|
Karen Kennedy became Harris's manager after impressing the vibraphonist with her work for jazz artists Kenny Barron and Javon Jackson '87. Kennedy counseled Harris through the period when record companies began taking an interest in him.
Bruce Lundvall, the president of Blue Note Records, had heard Harris at a showcase and told him that the label wanted to sign him immediately. But Kennedy helped Harris strengthen his negotiating position before placing his signature on the dotted line.
"Karen gave me 20 questions and told me to memorize them and ask them of the record company during the conversation," Harris said. "The perception they got is that I'm not someone they can just run over."
Blue Note granted Harris's request to perform a second showcase, inviting additional labels. A bidding war ensued, and Harris wound up with a favorable contract with Blue Note.
In 1998, Blue Note released Harris's debut recording, "A Cloud of Red Dust." He released "Black Action Figure" the next year, and in 2001, put out "Kindred," an album he co-led with pianist Jacky Terrasson '86.
Harris had a lot to say on many subjects, dissecting and dispensing with one idea as he moved on to another one, and he displayed an ease for finding connections between musical and non-musical worlds. But when talking about improvisation, Harris was brief, encapsulating its thorny challenges in just one sentence.
"Play as if you're trying to talk, utilize colors, and find the different personalities (of each note)," he said.
A request came from the students to play one more tune, and Harris complied with "Round Midnight." He played an eight-bar introduction on vibraphone with a breathy softness reminiscent of a woodwind, evoking a sadness that defied description. It was a reminder that no matter how eloquently musicians speak, there are some things they can only say with their instruments.
Stefon Harris's Dr. Warrick L. Carter Lecture last semester took place during Berklee's Black History Month Music Celebration 2002. Previous lecturers have included BET President Robert Johnson, violinist Regina Carter, and sociologist Sarah Lawrence Lightfoot.
[  Print-friendly Version ]
| 
