Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah, two-time Edison Award winning and Grammy Award-nominated trumpeter, composer and producer is the progenitor of “Stretch Music.” In this letter addressed to future artists, he explains how the jazz-rooted, genre blind musical form attempts to “stretch” jazz’s rhythmic, melodic and harmonic conventions to encompass as many other musical forms, languages and cultures as possible.
Defining Stretch Music (The Genre Blind Approach)
As an artist, I am always attempting to do things that haven’t been done. This goes beyond simply trying to be adept at something. It requires the ability to revisit past thought processes while considering new landscapes, along with continuously redefining oneself through failures as much as successes.
Regardless of the path taken, I have found one of the biggest challenges for an artist – especially a younger one – can be learning how to navigate others’ imposing their thoughts or opinions of what artists should and should not do. Be it from those who consider themselves experts on the process, or those who just like to comment or judge. Over time, I have learned that people will always have opinions and will always seek opportunities to express those thoughts and sentiments.
Yes, those critical offerings can be distracting. And yes, they can inhibit an artist from concentrating on his or her craft. However, experience has informed me that the interpretations of others are valid unto themselves and can be used to learn more about people. I don’t make music as a means of forcing my vision onto others. My music is meant to communicate and it’s okay if the communication moves from artist to listener and back again. In my view, a necessary step in the maturation of any artist is the development of the ability to be objective about someone else’s reaction to their work. I feel a wider vision and understanding of music, and oneself, can be gained if artists allow this concept to become part of their artistic process.
I recall an evening, after a gig, on Frenchman Street in New Orleans. I was hanging with a group of my elders who were complaining that they felt swing rhythms and bebop phrasing were missing from the music of my generation. They felt that what we were creating should not be called Jazz. I asked if any of them had considered King Oliver, Jelly Roll Morton, Kid Ory, Baby and Johnny Dodds, or Pops to be Jazz musicians. “Yes, of course!” they replied. I asserted, that based on their previous argument, none of those men should be considered Jazz musicians since their contributions predate swing and bebop. I asked if they had considered the younger generation’s way of approaching those same musical elements could simply be less linear and packaged differently from what they were accustomed to hearing. They said they had considered it, but stuck with their collective opinion.
At the crux of their argument is the same preoccupation with defining Jazz that has been part of the music since it was first called “Jazz.” The whole matter rests on the line that separates the word “Jazz” as a definition as opposed to a description. Using the term to describe my work is fine by me. However, just because it can be said that my work is inherently Jazz does not mean that it is exclusively Jazz. It is also important to note the fundamental difference between a definition and a description. When one defines something, they are forcing it to exist within the confines of its explanation. A description, on the other hand, is a discourse intended to give a mental image of an experience or an account of the relevant characteristics or qualities of something. So, in this sense, Jazz as a definition separates, excludes, and misses out on being open and free to grow. In my opinion, it’s freedom that actually defines Jazz and has given new life to the form. To the ears of those earlier referenced veterans, what came before had value and therefore had to be respected. I feel it’s just as important to be open to what is coming next and that each generation should have a chance to create and contribute something of their making.
I would be lying if I said my elders and I agreed to disagree. We did not. I left the conversation pretty upset, actually more pissed off than pretty upset. Then, I thoughtfully weighed their words. The more I was willing to listen to where they were coming from, the more my stance evolved from what was a relentless search to find something new, to combining that search with a want to create music that will be as relevant now as the music they grew up with. They want to hear that younger artists have done the homework, the same due diligence that members of their generation were required to know and exhibit. I found inspiration in that and it definitely made me think more conscientiously about the music I am making. I realized that if I am truly going to be a voice for this time, I have to consider multiple perspectives. Their critique helped me understand that a firm knowledge of what came before is equally as important as an unflinching willingness to seek new landscapes and opportunities. A marriage of these ideas could create a truly lasting impression that could inspire a new generation to reach – to stretch – further.
I have heard some describe our approach as “stretch,” or calling what we play, “stretch music.” It’s true that we are attempting to stretch—not replace—Jazz’s rhythmic, melodic and harmonic conventions to encompass as many musical forms/languages/cultures as we can. My core belief is that no form of expression is more valid than any other. This belief has compelled me to attempt to create a sound that is genre blind in its acculturation of other musical forms, languages, textures, conventions and processes. This is done as a means of extending the dialogue of the human condition across the lines of cultural and genre based barriers. As an example, if I take five people from completely different cultural/linguistic backgrounds and put them in a room with an objective of collective participation, they are going to have to reevaluate the way they communicate. They are going to have to learn to communicate in a way that is clear to one another in order to achieve their goal. It is as much a philosophy as a musical approach—diplomacy in music if you will. Recognizing that all points of view are in fact legitimate, and from there, choosing to learn to communicate in a way where you can reach a consensus.
This is what you will hear on our recordings; a stretching of Jazz, not a replacement. And this is what I hope younger people will be able to take away from it as well: the idea that innovation should never be regarded as a problem in artistic practice, that one should always be aware of what has come before, and finally, that criticisms shouldn’t evoke paralysis, they should inspire action.
Interested in learning more? Watch Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah: The New Chief. In this short documentary, filmmakers Amitabh Joshi and Erik Spink spotlight Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah, the Grammy-nominated, modern jazz musician from New Orleans who defies the expectations of jazz music while challenging how music is taught in universities nationwide: