about Keith Jarrett and Miles Davis's ensemble



The Miles Davis Lost Quintet and Other Revolutionary Ensembles 


by Bob Gluck(2016) 



Bob Gluck is a pianist, composer, and jazz historian, as well as associate professor of music and director of the Electronic Music Studio at the State University of New York, Albany. He is the author of You'll Know When You Get There: Herbie Hancock nd the Mwandishi Band, also published by the University of Chicago Press. 




著書に「You'll Know When You Get There: Herbie Hancock nd the Mwandishi Band」がある(シカゴ大学出版) 



In loving memory: 

Jim Richard Wilson 

Don Funes 






The Miles Davis Lost Quintet and Other Revolutionary Ensembles 

by Bob Gluck(2016) 









1. Miles Goes Electric 


2. “Bitches Brew,” in the Studio and on the Road 


3. Anthony Braxton: Leroy Jenkins, Musica Elettronica Viva, and the “Peace Church” Concert 


4. Interlude: Musical Rumblings in Chelsea 


5. Miles Davis's Increasingly Electric 1970, and a Reflection on His 1971-75 Bands 


6. Circle 


7. The Revolutionary Ensemble 


8. Ornette Coleman's Children: Comparisons and Contrasts Inside and Outside the Jazz Economy 






I was introduced to Mile Davis's Bitches Brew in 1970 by my family's rabbi, Chaim Stern. At the time, I was a student at Julliard's Preparatory Division. Having just begun to broaden my exposure to music beyond what I was experiencing at the conservatory, that recording was a jolt to my system. The inspiration to write this book, the companion piece to my previous work, You'll Know When You Get There: Herbie Hancock and the Mwandishi Band, dates to experiences I had four years after that first encouter with Daivs, when I entered college. 

マイルス・デイヴィスの「ビッチェズ・ブリュー」、私はこのアルバムを、我が家の師であるチェイム・スターンに勧められた。1970年のことだ。当時、私はジュリアード音楽院のプレカレッジに通っていた。この学校で触れた音楽から、更に飛躍しようとしていた私にとって、このアルバムは全身に衝撃を走らせた。人生初のデイヴィスとの出会いから4年の経験を経て、カレッジへ進学し様々な経験を積む中で、拙書「You'll Know When You Get There: Herbie Hancock and the Mwandishi Band」に続く本書を書くインスピレーションを得た。 


The phenomenal creative cauldron that was the Crane School of Music at the State University of New York at Potsdam allowed me to make sense of Bitches Brew and introduced me to Herbie Hancock's Mwandishi recordings. I joined a circle of friends there, mostly musicians and artists who were clustered around a charismatic young professor named Donald J. Funes. Don's nonjudgemental embrace of every conceivable musical form and culture afforded me the space to explore new musical possibilities. We listened to John Coltrane's A Love Supreme and the entire Wagner Ring cycle in his apartment. Don's Live / Electronic Ensemble introduced me to the kind of open improvisation that I had found so baffling about Bitches Brew, and I have been thinking about this music ever since. I have Don to thank for so much.   



In addition to the profound broadening of my musical sensibilities that Don encouraged, another life-changing experience for me in Potsdam was my friendship with Jim Richard Wilson, then an art history student. Jim, two years my senior, was one of the few non-musicians in our circle. He brought a deep intellectual and artistic curiosity and acuity to the group, and in turn was able to cultivate his lifelong deep appreciation of music in its myriad forms. Jim was a much-appreciated supporter of our collective and often wild musical and multimedia endeavors. 



After leaving Potsdam, Jim and I went our separate ways. Some years later, having recently moved to the Albany, New York, area to attend a graduate program in electronic arts, I discovered his name in the regional arts council newsletter, and we renewed our friendship. Jim was instrumental in encouraging my return to live musical performance after I had taken a break from it to serve as a rabbi. Our friendship deepened while we shared our love of jazz (particulary David Murray and Miles Davis), the plastic arts, politics, the outdoors, and intellectual pursuits, as well as our parallel lives within academia. (He was the founding director of an art gallery at a nearby college.) Jim was one of the best friends I have ever had, as well as a discerning reader of both my manuscripts. 



Jim spent his final two and a half years heroically battling cancer until his death in July 2014. That period was one of much personal sadness: my father, Stanley Gluck, had passed away the previous October. I missed both men deeply, but their memory, along with the ever-present support of my spouse, Pamela Faith Lerman, has spurred the creative thinking that enabled my completion of this book. 



I dedicated these pages to Jim Richard Wilson and to Don Funes, two people whose friendship and steady support helped make my creative endeavors possible. I dedicated my recording of music for saxophone, piano, and electronics, Tropelets (Ictus Records, 2014), to my father's memory.  



Faced as I was with competing possible narratives on which to focus The Miles Davis Lost Quintet, I owe many thanks to my editor, Elizabeth Branch Dyson, for helping guide my choice. Indeed, the Lost Quintet could be my major focus here while including two other elements from early drafts: Circle and the downtown loft scene in New York City. Both Circle and the Revolutionary Ensemble were personal discoveries made while I was at Potsdam. While I never saw Circle perform, I had the pleasure of hearing the Revolutionary Ensemble on two occasions, along with a solo performance by percussionist Jerome Cooper on a third. A conversation with Leroy Jenkins at that time (continued thirty years later) particulary sparked my interest. These were among many wonderful experiences I had while attending shows in venues like Studio Rivbea, Tin Palace, and the Public Theater. As I strove to identify a theme for this book, I came to recognize similarities between the music of Miles Davis's Lost Quintet, Circle, and the Revolutionary Ensemble. While writing, I increasingly appreciated their shared musical values and began to place all three on a single artistic continuum. Articulating the nature of that connective tissue, as well as the important differences, became an easy task. 

本書では、「The Miles Davis Lost Quintet」を見てゆく。どんな説明文を添えてることができるか、色々見比べて壁にあたると、大いに助けてくれたのが、編集担当のエリザベス・ブランチ・ダイソンだ。そう、本書で扱う「ロスト・クインテット」そして前書でも扱ったが、もう2つ、「サークル」、そしてニューヨークの「ロフト・ジャズ」のシーン、これらが主軸だ。サークル、そしてレヴォリューショナリー・アンサンブル、この両者は、私がポツダムの学窓で出会うことができた。サークルをライブで見る機会はなかった。レヴォリューショナリー・アンサンブルを耳にすることは、有り難いことに、バンド全体としては2回、それから打楽器奏者のジェローム・クーパーのソロパフォーマンスで1回と、計3回あった。当時、リロイ・ジェンキンスと話をすることができて(30年後にも)、これが私の興味関心に、とくに火を着けた。スタジオ・リヴビー、ティン・パレス、そしてパブリック・シアターといった場所での公演を見にゆく一方で、私にはこういった数多くの素晴らしい経験がある。本書の主軸をどこに据えるか、色々頭を捻っているうちに、気付いた「似ている所」がある。それは、マイルス・デイヴィスのロスト・クインテット、サークル、そしてレヴォリューショナリー・アンサンブルの3者の、である。この3者が共有している音楽的価値観について、私はキーボードを叩きながら、ますます実感するようになり、3つとも全部1冊の本にまとめることに取り掛かった。これらを結合させる、いわば「細胞組織」を作ってゆくことと、同じく、真逆にして重要な「相違点」を明らかにしてゆくこと、これらは私には造作も無いことだった。 



Thank you, Elizabeth, and the entire staff at the University of Chicago Press, including Editorial Associate Nora Devlin, copy editor Sandra Hazel, and Promotions Manager Ryo Yamaguchi; I've had the pleasure of working with Elizabeth and Ryo on my earlier book as well. I am also grateful to the many discerning and encouraging readers of this manuscript, among them Pheeroan akLaff, Dawoud Bey, Andre Cholmondeley, Guy de Bievre, Douglas Ewart, Patrick Gleeson, Michael Heffley, David Katz, James Keepnews, Pamela Faith Lerman, Ras Moshe, Nashira Priester, and Jim Richard Wilson. They have made this a far better book than it would have been otherwise. For helpful contributions to my thinking and research, I extend my appreciation to Dawoud Bey, Stanley Cowell, Brent Edwards, Herbie Hancock, Jabali Billy Hart, Michael Heller, Dave Holland, George Lewis, Neil Rolnick,and Michael Veal. Thanks also to Shira Gluck for her work on interview transcriptions and editorial matters. 

エリザベス、君には感謝しかない。それから、シカゴ大学出版局のスタッフ全員、編集補佐のノラ・デヴリン、原稿整理編集担当のサンドラ・ヘーゼル、販促主任のリョウ・ヤマグチ、みんなありがとう。特に、エリザベスとリョウは、前書でも一緒に仕事ができたことは、私の喜びとする処だ。そして、数多くの目の肥えた、それも私を奮起させてくれた人達が、本書を原稿段階で読んでくれた。彼らの一部を紹介しよう。 フェーロン・アクラフ、ダウッド・ベイ、アンドレ・チャムレー、ガイ・デ・ビブレ、ダグラス・エワルト、 パトリック・グリーソン、マイケル・ヘフレー、デヴィッド・カッツ、ジェームス・キープニュース、パメラ・フェイス・ラーマン、ラス・モーシェ、ナシラ・プリ―スター、そしてジム・リチャード・ウィルソン。彼らのおかげで、本書の出来は俄然良くなったのである。推敲・資料集めに際して、感謝申し上げたいのが、ダウッド・ベイ、スタンレー・カウエル、ブレント・エドワード、ハービー・ハンコック、ジャバリ・ビリー・ハート、マイケル・ヘラ―、デイヴ・ホランド、ジョージ・ルイス、ニール・ロルニック、そしてマイケル・ヴィールの各氏。インタビュー原稿の書き直しと編集作業については、シラ・グルックにもお礼を。 


Many thanks to the many musicians who gave of their time to converse with me in formal interviews about that wonderful creative period of more than four decades ago: Barry Altschul, Karl Berger, Jerome Cooper, Chick Corea, Alvin Curran, Andrew Cyrille, Dave Liebman, John Mars, Michael Moss, Alphonse Mouzon, Wallace Roney, Warren Smith, and Richard Teitelbaum. 




My writing is always informed by what I know and experience as a musician. One of the ways I learn more about music is by performing it. I began to explore the tune “Bitches Brew” as a performance vehicle ― a collection of motifs to be variously structured and used as grist for improvisation ― in 2005, initially playing solo piano with interactive computer software of my own design, and subsequently performing in trio and quartet settings. I am grateful to the various musicians who have contributed to this effort. Among them have been Michael Bisio, Don Byron, Benjamin Chadabe, David Katz, Jay Rosen, Dean Sharp, and Christopher Dean Sullivan. Thank you to the staff at Cycling 74 (programming environment Max / MSP), Moog Music (Piano Bar), and Yamaha (Disklavier). 



One rarely anticipates what may prove to be a profound source of learning. My writing about music took a distinct turn in the past five years as I became aware of the strong acuity of Max, our family's finicky little shih tzu-poodle, to meter, spatial awareness, synchronicity, and levels of energy. While walking this remarkable dog, who very nearly reached the ripe age of sixteen, I began to think in terms of relational metaphors regarding improvisatory band interactions. I suspect that I am just beginning to assimilate all that I learned from Max. 




Earlier drafts of this book included several topics that ultimately were not retained in the narrative and were instead spun off as articles. I extend much appreciation to the journals that provided a home for these: “Interview with David Rosenboom on His Early Career: Late 1960s - Early 1970s,” Journal SEAMUS 22, nos. 1-2 (Spring-Fall 2011): 20-28; “Electric Circus, Electric Ear and the Intermedia Center in Late-1960s New York,” Leonardo 45, no.1(2012): 50-56; “Nurturing Young Composers: Morton Subotnick's Late-1960s Studio in New York City,” Computer Music Journal 36, no. 1 (2012): 65-80; “Morton Subotnick's Sidewinder,” New Music Box, October 16, 2013, http://www.newmusicbox.org/articles/morton-subotnicks-sidewinder/; and “Paul Bley and Live Synthesizer Performance,” Jazz Perspectives 8, no. 1 (2014): 303-22. 


“Interview with David Rosenboom on His Early Career: Late 1960s - Early 1970s,” Journal SEAMUS 22, nos. 1-2 (Spring-Fall 2011): 20-28;  

“Electric Circus, Electric Ear and the Intermedia Center in Late-1960s New York,” Leonardo 45, no.1(2012): 50-56;  

“Nurturing Young Composers: Morton Subotnick's Late-1960s Studio in New York City,” Computer Music Journal 36, no. 1 (2012): 65-80;  

“Morton Subotnick's Sidewinder,” New Music Box, October 16, 2013, http://www.newmusicbox.org/articles/morton-subotnicks-sidewinder/;  “Paul Bley and Live Synthesizer Performance,” Jazz Perspectives 8, no. 1 (2014): 303-22. 


My family continues to be a source of joy and support, particulary during this year of mourning following the death of my father: my spouse, Pamela Faith Lerman, who deserves a second mention; my daughter, Allison Lerman-Gluck; my mother (and editor throughout my childhood), Aileen Gluck; my brother and sister-in-law, Arnie and Sarah Gluck; my aunt Myra Schubin; my nieces Ellie and Shira; and my cousins Wendy Haber and Peter Schubin, their spouses, and their wonderful children. Many other family members, too many to mention by name, have also been wonderful to me during this period. And I am grateful for my life, for my friends, and for the many musical colleagues who grace my existence. 



I complete this book only weeks after the passing of Jerome Cooper and Ornette Coleman. No words can capture the depth of my gratitude to each of them.