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Jeffrey Agrell is a hornist, multi-instrumentalist, composer, educator, and author of many books.
You can put your questions for phase 2 in the comments, on the discussion page or through Mastodon, http://tabletop.vip/@gamesformusic
(1) Can you tell a bit about your background that is relevant to your practice? Is past education important for what you do now?
Most education — music and otherwise — is narrow. At the highest level, a PhD or a DMA is an inch wide and a mile deep, metaphorically speaking; that is, the most educated people know more and more about less and less. There is one huge problem with this — the narrower the knowledge and field of study, the greater the loss of creativity or creative mindset. Creativity requires broad knowledge of many fields, preferably unrelated, even wildly so. Deep but narrow study knows all the rules, knows what’s possible within this narrow world, and thus closes itself off from any wider view, any inkling of possibility or creative alternatives. Broad study, where you have at least some knowledge of many things, many processes, makes fertile ground for creative discovery (a great book on this subject is Range by David Epstein). Example: Gutenberg discovered the printing press from knowing something about the wine press and the coin stamp, two things that have absolutely nothing to do with each other. He put the idea of the coin stamp to make raised letters that could be put in a frame, inked over, then pressed down on parchment to make a printed page. So instead of one page taking a couple weeks to do by hand, now you could have a page in a minute, making it possible to dramatically reduce the time and expense to create books and other printed matter.
My education was deep enough to obtain employment in my field (music) — ok, I admit, I had a lot of luck along the way — but broad enough to allow me to find creative ways to do it. I had a classical education on my horn — the most classical of instruments — but I had a considerable education on other instruments outside of standard teaching. My secondary instrument was guitar, and I spent years (sometimes many hours a day) working on various styles of music and technique: folk, classical, swing, jazz, both fingerpicking and flatpicking. I performed on the instrument in college in groups and years later in duos while I was in the orchestra (symphony, opera).
I also spent various amounts of time on bass, banjo, mandolin, fiddle, dulcimer, autoharp, piano, and even cello (in string class in school). At various times I sang in choirs (men’s chorus in college, later — community chorus, jazz choir). I was comfortable reading music notation (horn, piano, classical guitar, singing). I was and am comfortable reading guitar tablature. Besides music, I have always had an interest in theater (drama). I was in plays in high school and college, and learned theatrical improvisation while in college. Although I never took a composition course, I dabbled in composing since early on, and composed for guitar, and for classical instruments, and especially chamber music. My composing benefited very much from spending time learning some Latin percussion (Afro-Cuban and Brazilian) and jazz (on guitar). I have to say that although my education and my vocation (playing horn in a symphony/opera orchestra for 25 years; then teaching classical horn for 21 years) were all classical, the most important part of my composing came from what I did outside of standard and traditional music education — all those hours I spent working on guitar (for example).
It comes down to this: I am not a genius or virtuoso on any instrument or in any genre. But this mix of educational ingredients — both in- and outside the system — allowed me to discover new ways to create. I wrote many pieces for classical musicians that were influenced by a mix of my experiences in classical, folk, jazz, and percussion. This unique combination allowed me to create and fill a niche that had little company or competition. Some of my pieces are now standard repertoire for some instruments (examples: Blues for D.D. for solo oboe or oboe and piano. Or: Gospel Time for trombone quartet. Do a search for my name on youtube.com and you can hear those and many more).
The same can be said for my teaching (I was a horn professor at the University of Iowa 2000-2021). I played only classical horn from 1961 to 2000, but finally combined my nonclassical experiences (guitar, et al.) with my horn playing starting in 2000 and created new ways of learning horn and playing music. I also started a new course in 2001: Improvisation for Classical Musicians. Improvisation has never been a part of any classical training (what I call TCME — traditional classical music education), mainly because the common definition of improvisation is jazz and jazz = bebop = 220 bpm = Never Going to Happen. I came up with a new definition that allows everyone to improvise from the first day they pick up the instrument: “I get to pick the note.” As simple as that. No jazz style imposed on the choice of note. Just play a note — any note — and listen. Play it again. At some point, play a different note. Listen. React. Continue. Do this alone or with a partner. The process is just like spoken conversation. It’s easy. It’s fun. And it should be a part of every music lesson from the first day.
These ideas I set down in many articles, lectures, workshops, and especially in my books, especially Improvisation Games for Classical Musicians and The Creative Hornist.
(2) How do you approach the relation between theory and practice in art. Do you maybe have recommendations for a book or an article, maybe something from your writing?
They once asked an old banjo player: “Can you read music?” Answer: “Not enough to hurt my playing.” Notation gives us access to a vast array of educational and classical literature, but it also is only one edge of the sword. Notation-based music study tends to be treated as the end-all, be-all, The Only Show in Town. The total emphasis on notation in TCME strangles half of music making. It all-too-often kills the fun part, the joy of music-making. Modern TCME starts musical training with notation on Day One. This is wrong.
Think how we learn to speak as babies. We listen and we imitate. We make approximate noises, goo goo gah gah. We listen some more. At some point, we blunder into a sound that makes sense to our listeners (parents)….ma..ma… and our parents go wild and give us wonderful joyous feedback that we are learning to speak. And we think, hey, I am on to something! And we continue and thus we learn very quickly, going from tabula rasa — knowing absolutely nothing to being able to speak fluently and without accent in about three years, more or less. We are not criticized or punished for imperfections along the way, so we keep trying and enjoy the process.
But when we learn a new language as an adult, it all changes. Suddenly, the most important thing is to be… perfect! Don’t make a mistake! So learning a new language is stressful, and to avoid the dreaded mistake we memorize phrases. If we learn this way in college or language school, we are graded and punished for imperfection. There is little or no joy in the process. We almost never become fluent in this process; we’re lucky if we learn to speak at all. If we were permitted to learn like babies, it would be much, much more enjoyable. That is: listen a lot. Imitate. Go for quantity — say things over and over. Simple things. Listen. Try. Repeat. Continue.
We could and should do the same in music. TCME insists on Symbol before Sound. This is completely wrong. It should be Sound before Symbol. Spend time trying out things on the instrument before being distracted and confused by having to read notation. Learn notation, yes, but not right away. Learn it later when you have achieved some familiarity and basic skill on the instrument. We don’t make the child read PONY until he knows what a pony is in real life. Then we can say, “See — here’s what PONY looks like when you write it down!”. Students can learn music without notation to start. As the saying goes, teach the sailor to take the torpedo apart and then teach him the theory of it.
Nothing wrong with learning music theory, but it should wait just a little before occupying the music student. Learn to play and enjoy playing first. I look at music theory as a detailed labeling system. It gives names to things and thus makes it easier to talk about music. Classical theory — TCME theory — to me is not entirely useless, but nearly so. It’s convenient for those employed as music theory teachers, but it is a kludgy sludgy mess for creators. Much (much) better, much more practical and useful is jazz terminology and the way it describes scales and chords (harmony). Jazz terminology and jazz education teaches the student to “think in music” and thus be able to create music and to talk about music much more directly and practically. It is insanity that music schools only teach classical theory and zero jazz theory to their students. Madness. Useless madness. Classical theory is easy to grade and to teach, but quite useless for any practical creation.
Back to notation. Notation is king in TCME. What it omits is any application of the other half of music making: the Aural/Creative tradition, where music is made without notation, where creativity is the most important thing. TCME is about perfection, standardization, conformity, following orders, being a replaceable cog in a machine (large ensemble). A/C is about thinking for yourself, having a unique voice (just like your speaking voice), creating your own version, your own path. You learn to “think in music.” Comprehensive musicianship today means being able to do both. TCME omits any mention or training in the A/C tradition, which is tragic. Look at the huge attrition in people playing instruments — compare the number of those who start playing in 6th grade to those who are still playing a year after high school or college. TCME prepares you to be a cog in a large ensemble (band, orchestra, choir). If you want some A/C fun, better take up the guitar or drums and start a band.
You can find a detailed comparison chart of Literate (notation-based) versus Aural/Creative traditions in my book, Improvisation Games for Classical Musicians.
Book recommendations:
- Jeffrey Agrell, Improvisation Games for Classical Musicians (2008; Vol. II – 2016);
- Bert Ligon, Comprehensive Technique for Jazz Musicians;
- Mike Steinel, Building a Jazz Vocabulary.
(3) How would you describe your current field and context of your art? Are there labels that you accept? Do you consider yourself to be ‘experimental’, or the ‘avant-garde’?
There has been progress among classical musicians and TCME since I started improvising in this way in 2000 — more players, more evidence of creativity in teaching and performing. That is heartening. But there is still a huge way to go. It should be a part of every music student’s musical upbringing from Day One. So there is still a long way to go. I do not expect to see it happen in my lifetime (I’m healthy, but I’m also 77…).
Everything I do is “experimental” — try stuff and see what happens. That’s what improv is: try something, listen, see what just happened. React, try again. Should be part of every music lesson. I always started my horn lessons with some kind of improvisation. Improv is a great tool for working on all the same things that TCME works on — but much more varied and useful. Scales. Arpeggios. Etc.
One problem with this kind of improv is what to call it. I touched earlier on the problem of the definition of “improvisation” — may be but doesn’t have to be jazz-related. Some call it “free improvisation”, but I don’t care for that label, since some people think it means just making a lot of noisy nonsense. Improv to me should sound like music. It can be wild and crazy at times, but it shouldn’t be all extended techniques or sound effects, any more than food should be all hot spices.
One project I did with my students was the SAD.BROKE.BLUE.MOZART.BIRTHDAY Project. It was a short list of easy ways to get started in improvisation. SAD, meaning to improvise a slow melody in a natural minor scale (1 2 b3 4 5 b6 b7) scale over a low drone, something like Gregorian chant. BROKE: a play on the word Baroque; play a line of connecting tones through 16 measures of typical Baroque chord progressions (whole notes are fine). BLUE: learn to navigate a basic 12-bar blues. (I detail this in a new book: French Horn Player’s Guide to the Blues (and Beyond). MOZART: Construct a simple melody that sounds like Mozart. This approach exemplifies what I think TCME should do: learn music by trying to do it, rather than just reading about it. The same as learning a language by trying to speak it, not just reading about it or just reading it. BIRTHDAY: Everyone should be able to play the tune of Happy Birthday. In all 12 keys. Learn it now and you’re set for life whenever it comes up. Extra credit: play by ear many Christmas carols — you already know the tunes very well. Now figure them out (by ear) on your instrument, preferably in several keys.
(4) Do you have a favourite game? Or a game genre/mechanic?
I have many. I am giving a lecture at a horn workshop in a couple weeks about how to add creativity to one’s daily practice. One of the ways is to play musical games. There are many ways to do musical games: I detail over a thousand of them (in prose — no notation) in my improvisation books (see giamusic.com or amazon.com).
(5) What music do you enjoy? Is there a difference when you’re performing or listening? Any guilty pleasures?
What I don’t enjoy, or haven’t enjoy much, is playing solos in recitals. It’s very stressful, it’s all about perfection. Same with playing solos in orchestra. There is a certain kind of relief when it’s over, when the stress has passed, and that we (classical musicians) assume is “enjoyment” of music, when it is mostly just relief that the stress has passed. What I enjoy most these days — I’m retired and don’t play horn anymore — is playing jazz guitar with an app (iRealPro) as my backup rhythm section. I’m an amateur now, I just play when and how long I want to and don’t worry about not being perfect. Just play. Ah! I don’t really go to concerts any more — I played so many of them — many 1000’s of them, all kinds — over 46 years as a professional musician. So that particular “vitamin” is covered.
(6) Please, tell us a few words about your most recent project. How long it took and how many people were involved?
I’ve done two books since I retired in 2021: French Horn Player’s Guide to the Blues (and Beyond), and 365 Creativity Quotes: Wit and Wisdom for Daily Inspiration, both available from amazon.com. I do have another book or two for horn players on my to-do list, and I hope to get them done sooner or later. But it’s hard to get much done with so much free time and no deadlines. No other people involved — I work alone, except for all the stuff I’ve learned from teachers, books, and other people over the years.
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(8) Do you see something missing from the current landscape of music/game intersection? Or something you personally would like to see more of?
Improvisation games should be a part of every musician’s training from Day 1. TCME likes soulless, boring, drills and exercises. I made the conscious choice to forfeit all respect from academia by calling my musical games “Games” instead of drills or exercises. I was once reprimanded by another professor in a doctoral defense meeting for calling certain exercises the F-word of academia: FUN. He said, you can’t call it “fun”. You have to say “motivating” or “engaging”. But not fun. So in TCME, students don’t “play” their instruments. They only “serious” them. As I often said to my students — with tongue in cheek — remember, don’t let me catch you having fun. No having fun!
The thing is, we should be doing games, not drills or exercises. Games are fun. Fun is motivating — because if it’s fun, we want to do more of it. And if we do more of it, we GET BETTER. The TCME model is to endure boring, meaningless exercises because “they’re good for you”, like taking a bitter medicine. Buy why not eat yummy food (to extend the metaphor) and enjoy the process? Musical practice doesn't have to be boring. Replacing routines with games achieves the same results but in an enjoyable way.
The trouble is, students who grow up on TCME only know that one way to teach or do music — the boring, impractical way, devoid of creativity. They are terrified at thought of creativity, of improvisation, of making their own decisions. My toughest teaching task was introducing new freshmen into improvisation. They are terrified of “making a mistake!” and can barely bring themselves to make a sound on the instrument that wasn’t ordered by someone else (teacher, composer). However, in all my years of teaching improv and giving workshops on it, I only had one complete failure. It was a grad student, a clarinetist. She was so frightened that she refused to put the reed in her mouth and try. I said, play one note, a whole note, your easiest, most comfortable note. She couldn’t do it. Her terror was too great. And that is a terrible indictment of TCME and what it does to kill the joy of music in students.
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