Book
Review
Sync
or Swarm: Improvising Music in a Complex Age
David
Borgo
New
York and London: Continuum, 2005.
ISBN
0-8264-1729-9
236
pages, plus audio companion CD.
Reviewed
by James Harley, University of Guelph
Right
away, author David Borgo strikes the tone that will carry through the entirety
of his book, Sync or Swarm: Improvising Music in a Complex Age. In the opening
acknowledgments, he rejects the idea of comparing the writing of the book to
the process of musical composition, instead relating it to an extended
improvisation. In particular, he emphasizes the collective nature of the
experience. It is worth quoting the opening paragraph at length, as there are
many similar passages of what I would consider unnecessary advocacy throughout
the book:
As in musical improvisation, one draws on a
lifetime of experience and training, but all in service of that elusive and
often fleeting moment when an idea or connection is newly forged or a creative
direction presents itself for further exploration. From one perspective, the
dialogic process of scholarship happens at a far slower pace than that of
improvised music, but both involve formative experiences with mentors,
considerable time spent exploring and internalizing the work of others, and the
lengthy and ongoing process of developing one’s own approach or expertise. Like
the excitement of a good improvised performance, some of the most fortuitous
and mysterious moments during the research process can happen without warning
or explanation . . . (xiii)
If
we re-read this passage, substituting the word “composition” for
“improvisation,” the revised text rings equally true, perhaps even more so.
After all, composition implies the possibility for revision and correction,
critical components of writing text. Herein lies one of the fundamental
problems of this book: it reads too strongly as an apology for modern creative
music improvisation. Borgo’s arguments rely heavily on a rejection of music
composition, valorizing improvisation at its expense. This binary is completely
unnecessary, even damaging to his cause which, I believe, is to set improvised
music in the context of modern scientific and social thought, demonstrating how
improvisation can exemplify various facets of important new paradigms such as
chaos theory, complexity, fractals, networks, system theory, self-organization,
emergent behaviour, and more. This is an ambitious and important agenda, and
Borgo is worthy of the attempt. However, Sync or Swarm is ultimately a
deeply flawed effort.
Yes,
John Cage, Iannis Xenakis, and other composers of their era had little
understanding of jazz and little awareness of the progressive, pioneering work
involving improvisation by Ornette Coleman, Cecil Taylor, Sun Ra, and others. A
number of writers, notably George Lewis in his important essay, “Improvised
Music after 1950: Afrological and Eurological Perspectives,” have addressed the
Eurocentric, potentially racist, aspects of their stance (or willful
ignorance). But we live in a different era, I believe, and the “us or them”
attitude that seeps out in every chapter of this book does nothing to
acknowledge a more contemporary, pluralistic reality. The real polarity, it
seems to me, comes in the pitting of group improvisation against notated
ensemble performance. In my experiences as both composer and improviser, the
differences between the two approaches are often of degree, not kind. The
values of group improvisation that Borgo celebrates can be found in ensemble
performance of all kinds to varying extents. Despite his best efforts, Borgo
does not provide a convincing argument for the uniqueness of creative
improvisation.
Having
said this, I would like to underscore the elegance of the author’s writing at
his best. In relating group improvisation to complexity theory, for example, he
exclaims:
the dynamic complexity that informs, and can
be generated by, an individual improviser is immense. Mind and body, moment and
place, emotion and intellect, preparation, experience, and spontaneity all
collide, collude, and (in the best of moments) cooperate to create a compelling
performance. When the complexities of individual improvisation are combined and
amplified in a group setting—particularly those settings without an overriding
“composition” or a shared harmonic or rhythmic framework—the sheer volume and
variety of interactions, influences, intentions, and potential
(mis)interpretations that come into play would seem to preclude the possibility
for anything meaningful to emerge. Yet these freer settings for group improvisation
challenge us to engage with the complexities of collective dynamics and
decision-making and with the emergent qualities of ensemble performance. (62)
The
text is organized in seven chapters. In the introduction, Borgo begins by
linking critic Whitney Balliett’s 1959 description of jazz as “the sound of
surprise” to mathematician John L. Casti’s 1994 characterization of emerging
scientific fields such as chaos and complexity as “the science of surprise.”
These references are not actually provided, although the relevant publications
are listed in the book’s bibliography. There are numerous other problems with
references and editing throughout the book, and they are, unfortunately, quite distracting. This
conceptual or descriptive connection between music and science is one that the
author makes throughout the book. Borgo also discusses, in detail, some of his
own “musicking” experiences in the context of creative group improvisation, in
particular with the UCLA-based Surrealestate collective (a selection of the
music they created is included on the accompanying CD). In this opening
chapter, Borgo explains the pun of the title, to which he later returns. He
quotes George Lewis who, in discussing his approach to directing a class on
improvisation, states that to begin a session he would “throw them in the deep
end and work with what naturally happens” (9). The old dictum “sink or swim”
becomes, in the parlance of the new scientific paradigms discussed here, “sync
or swarm.”
In
chapter two, “Reverence for Uncertainty,” we learn the Latin source of the word
“improvisation”: not foreseen. Improvisers, we are told, “not only welcome but
they worship the sound of surprise” (14). Worship? This is one example of the
evangelizing attitude the author presents throughout. I was glad to find a rare
quote from a composer, David Cope, who states that “improvisation ‘must
inherently exist in all music in which exact notation of every detail is not
possible: therefore in all music’” (14). This important conclusion is mostly
overlooked by the author, although he must be credited for including it. Most
of the chapter examines historical and cultural contexts for creative
improvisation, distinguishing “Afrological” and “Eurological” trends. Borgo
brings many interesting voices into the discussion, providing a comprehensive
survey of contemporary improvisation.
The
third chapter, “The Embodied Mind,” focuses on Evan Parker as a solo
improviser. Given the book’s overriding emphasis on the complex dynamics of
group improvisation, it is not entirely clear why such attention should be paid
to a soloist. The author justifies his research on Parker by stating that he
hopes “to confront—and propose a means through which to bypass—the Cartesian
split between mind and body (or intellect and intuition) that so often plagues
the analysis and discussion of jazz and improvised music” (36). In his cogent and wide-ranging
discussion, Borgo focuses on Parker’s instrumental style, using interview
material to emphasize the saxophonist’s apparent transcendence of both
performance technique and rational control of the musical experience as it
unfolds.
Chapter
four, “Rivers of Consciousness,” turns to a case study of Sam Rivers, primarily
in the context of trio performances involving bassist Cecil McBee and drummer
Barry Altschul. On the scientific side, Borgo, here, introduces a variety of
concepts: nonlinear dynamics (adopting the concept of “phase space” as a tool
for musical analysis), emergent properties, phenomenology (particularly as relating
to “qualia” or the partitioning of temporal experience), and other related
terms. The discussion of these complex concepts is decidedly superficial, but
Borgo provides references for readers interested in deepening their awareness
of these ideas. The main point seems to posit some new tools for analyzing
group improvisation that would otherwise escape study.
We
are ultimately presented with a “phenomenological analysis” of a recorded
performance by the Sam Rivers Trio. This involves parsing the recording into
sections, guided by a set of “transition types,” including sudden/unexpected
segue, pseudo-cadential segue, climactic segue, feature overlap, feature
change, fragmentation, and internal cadence. As someone who has spent a fair
amount of time analyzing and writing contemporary music, these are useful
tools, but they don’t strike me as being particularly innovative. Over forty
years ago, music theorist Leonard Meyer developed a similarly phenomenological
approach to music in Music, the Arts, and Ideas. Further, a great deal
of work has been done in the past decade on the analysis of electroacoustic
music, a domain that presents similar problems: music created with no score
that is preserved on recording. There are many related publications, but Borgo
appears to be unaware of them. This is an unfortunate oversight on his part.
However, I do appreciate his caution that any such analytical tools “must be
integrated into a systemic perspective that recognizes the nature of music as
inextricable from its personal, social, and cultural particulars” (85).
Unfortunately, he does not propose any approaches that would take these issues
into account. One might look to the domains of sociology or psychology,
perhaps, for models of how to assess musician/listener involvement with, or
understanding of, a particular performance.
In
chapter five, “The Edge of Chaos,” Borgo delves into the domain of chaos
theory, turbulence, and the dynamic relationship between order and disorder. He
quotes musicologist Judy Lochhead who rightly states that “scant work has been
devoted in either music or cultural studies to the role that musicians played
in disclosing the new cultural paradigm of ‘chaotics’” (86). This chapter
highlights the author’s tendency to valorize improvisation at the expense of
music composition. He acknowledges that composers have been making use of chaos
theory as a compositional technique, but he gives no examples and provides one
scanty reference. He attributes derogatory comments about improvisation-based
composition practices to Elliott Carter and Iannis Xenakis, but does not quote
the comments or provide any context. “Improvisation-based composition practice”
does not necessarily mean that these composers looked down on improvisation as
a separate category of activity. There is nuance in their criticism (if we seek
out the references) that Borgo ought to have engaged with, but does not.
Furthermore, the author includes an anecdote, “often-told [. . .] in the annals
of free improvisation” about trombonist Paul Rutherford performing Luciano
Berio’s Sequenza V (a seminal solo work for trombone) in London where “critics and
intelligentsia” did not discern that he had inserted a healthy dose of
improvisation into his performance. Question: does Borgo know anything about
this composition? That, for example, the music is highly theatrical and
involves a considerable amount of performer contribution, so that every performer who presents
it will contribute a great deal of “personality” beyond the notation? Is there
an expectation that people attending this concert in 1974 would know the piece
so well as to be able to recognize that some of the notes were not written? Was
there any available recording? Had it been presented previously in London in
the relatively short time since its composition (I would hazard a guess that
there had been very few performances, if any)? And did Borgo (or Rutherford,
for that matter) poll everyone at the concert to find out what they thought?
This anecdote demonstrates an attitude of reverse-snobbism toward the world of
contemporary composition and related performance practice. At the very least,
Borgo should acknowledge some of the nuances and problematics involved in the
telling (and retelling) of such an anecdote. In a similar way, Borgo ought to
provide references for inflammatory statements such as: “Many pan-European
composers disavowed improvisation simply because the post-WWII forms of jazz
were becoming widely recognized as art forms that could compete for the mantle
of high art music” (88). Perhaps, he does not support statements such as these
because there is little evidence to support them.
The
bulk of chapter five presents a method that Borgo adopts for measuring the
“fractal” dimension of recorded music in order to study degrees of musical
complexity in a more precise way.1 He makes use of computer software developed by Rolf Bader and measures recorded sound according
to three main “subsystems”: the harmonic overtone components; the inharmonic
frequencies; and any large amplitude modulations (93). Data derived from these
components are used to produce a single measure of “complexity,” displayed as a
waveform on a graph (fractal dimension over time). This is interesting work,
and the graphs provide easily-grasped snapshots of the evolution of a
(recorded) performance. However, it puzzles me that the software, at least as
explained in the book, does not measure changes in rhythm, either in terms of
tempo or degree of regularity-irregularity. These elements are critical components
of improvised music, particularly for ensembles that include rhythm section
instruments (as almost all the sample recordings do). I may be missing
something because of the book’s abridged explanation of the methodology, but
any measure of musical “complexity” that ignores rhythm and related parameters
is inchoate at best. A detailed sonogram would provide more useful information,
although there would be more work required to extract it.
Throughout
the book, Borgo stresses the role that listeners play in shaping live
improvised musical performance, but he does not support this claim in any
substantive way. How, specifically, do listeners influence the emerging
qualities of an improvisation? There has been work done on reception and
connection in this context, but there is little reference to such research
here. This is unfortunate, as any argument that seeks to privilege the social
network of improvisation over the “top-down” hierarchy of notated composition
(as Borgo would have it) must strongly take the participatory nature of active
listening into account.
There
is a disconnect between Borgo’s emphasis on the role of the listener and his
analytical focus on recorded improvisations. I am not persuaded that there is
any difference between listening to a recording of an improvisation and
listening to a recording of a notated composition. The social remove imposed by
the recording medium is the same for both. Virtually all recorded music
exhibits the same features that Borgo analyzes (and valorizes) in improvisation.
Once recorded, the music is fixed and measurable, whether or not it was
originally intended as such. Borgo does not really address this critical issue.
If he wants to distinguish between composed and improvised music, he needs to
develop analytical tools that reflect that distinction.
A
discussion of self-organizing systems leads to another problematic discussion I
feel compelled to address in some detail. Borgo draws on a particular example
in order to demonstrate that “there is no guarantee [. . .] that divergent
components will find ways to self-organize effectively” (128). He describes a
performance at the 2004 Guelph Jazz Festival that generated a great deal of
controversy: a performance by Tuvan vocalist Sainkho Namtchylak together with African
American musicians William Parker (bass) and Hamid Drake (drums). Borgo was not
actually in attendance at this event, although he states that he was able to
view a video of it made by an audience member (such a recording would have been
illicit; I am, therefore, inclined to raise ethical questions concerning his
use of the video to support his claims). He does not give any indication of
being familiar with Namtchylak’s musical practice, nor with any aspects of her
cultural background that may be important to an interpretation of her actions.
What he seems to be interested in, with this example, is the audience reaction
to the performance and to the controversial decision of the festival organizers
to interrupt the show. This is fine, and it supports the author’s discussion of
the “inefficiencies” of systems built from divergent components. However,
having been in attendance for the entirety of the event in question, I find a
few aspects of his discussion disturbing.
First
of all, I must contest this statement: “She appeared visibly irritated, and it
was clear that she only intended on performing as long as contractually
required” (128). Visibly irritated? Perhaps, but I wasn’t prepared to draw such
a definitive conclusion, as I am not familiar with the facial expressions of
Tuvan people, nor with meanings that could be drawn from bodily movements or
demeanor. The fact that she glanced at her watch a few times during the
performance does not, in my view, entitle anyone to draw such conclusions, even
those who were actually in attendance. I can only assume Borgo has forgotten
his ethnomusicological training: where is the contract, and a recorded
statement as to her intent? She did not stop the performance; moreover, she
went on to perform for far longer than obliged by contract or even reasonable
expectation.
The
more interesting musical question, here, is about her interaction, or lack of
it, with the other musicians. She gave little indication that she was engaging
with Parker and Drake, but I, for one, am not prepared to assume that she was
not, just because I didn’t quite “get it.” I found the performance disturbing,
but at the same time fascinating. There were enough micro-variations in
Namtchylak’s vocalizing—highly restricted though the musical content otherwise
was—to keep my interest, and the roiling energy of the bass and drums provided
an engaging foil to her repetitive phrasing. On a 1977 live recording titled Nonaah, AACM alum Roscoe
Mitchell performs a solo in which he repeats a single phrase on his soprano
saxophone for at least ten minutes. Although Mitchell is not known for being a
particularly demonstrative performer in terms of stage demeanor or engagement
with the audience (eye contact, facial expression, spoken introductions, etc.),
I suspect Borgo wouldn’t jump to the same kinds of conclusions about motivation
or contractual obligation in this case.
The
interesting part of his discussion of the Namtchylak controversy focuses on the
range of audience reaction, as evidenced in subsequent online discussion-list
exchanges, reviews, and so forth. I find it highly suspect that on the basis of
audience reaction, the author could conclude that “the success of a given
collective improvisation ultimately rests on the degree of communication between
the players, and in this light Ms. Namthcylak’s [sic] performance for the first
half-hour would seem to have failed miserably” (129). In order to draw such a
conclusion, I believe one would need to interview the musicians; I think it is
equally plausible to conclude that these musicians were communicating to a high
degree. To return to Roscoe Mitchell, I witnessed a performance at the 2006
Guelph Jazz Festival with the Art Ensemble of Chicago (the three surviving
members plus two new recruits). The two remaining founders of the group, Joseph
Jarman and Roscoe Mitchell, improvised for long stretches together without
giving any indication at all that they were listening to each other or were
even aware the other was performing. Were they communicating? Others present
might have had difficulty concluding that they were (this was one reaction I
heard, in fact), but I, myself, have no hesitation in assuming that they were
so familiar with each other’s playing from over forty years experience
performing together that they could exhibit highly divergent behaviour within
the context of an otherwise often highly integrated ensemble performance.
Borgo
goes on to portray the Namtchylak controversy in even more distorted terms: “a
majority of listeners were willing to counteract the decision of the festival
organizers and to allow a space for Ms. Namtchylak’s fierce and frustrated
outpourings” (130). The organizers did, indeed, interrupt the performance, and
this was a highly disturbing intervention. There were no explanations given, at
least to the audience as a whole, and the vocalist, in fact, remained onstage,
giving spoken expression to some anger and dissatisfaction. The performance
eventually started up again and continued for at least another hour. I,
personally, did not find this continued performance an “outpouring” that was
“fierce and frustrated.” I found it baffling and somewhat disappointing. To my
ears, Namtchylak seemed to be running through her compendium of extended
techniques. She did not appear to be any more engaged with the other musicians
than she had been at the beginning, nor with the unfolding of a musical
process, which could be another way of saying that she had been engaged with
them all along. Her vocal artistry is intense, decidedly, but I preferred the
challenge of the opening performance to the “bag of tricks” we were presented
with when the performance continued. Admittedly, this is my own subjective
interpretation, but I have tried to be careful to not draw conclusions about
motivation or intent. Borgo should be similarly careful, especially in the
context of a published book, rather than a casual internet discussion.
Chapter
six, “Sync and Swarm,” presents interesting discussions of “sync” and “swarm
intelligence.” In both cases, the notion of group behaviour is related to music
performance. In quoting William Benzon, Borgo states, “music requires that our
symbol-processing capacities, motor skills, and emotional and communicative
skills all work in close coordination such that, under ideal circumstances, it
can produce a type of group interactional synchrony [. . .] [T]he sonic flow of
music correlates with the flow of neurophysiological substrates, supporting the
possibility for tight coupling among individuals who share a common musical
culture” (135). He goes on to suggest that “we need to reorient our analytical
framework to take account of the dynamics that occur in ensembles as they
musick together [. . .] And we need to acknowledge the ways in which influences
in musical communities circulate through more than the sounds of performances
and recordings [. . .] The networks involved include a host of social
conventions and material artifacts that affect the ways in which music is made
and heard” (135). I wholeheartedly concur, but I am disappointed that the
author does not actually propose any such “re-orientation” of the analytical
framework. Perhaps just stating the need, in the context of a discussion on the
scientific framework of algorithms modeling naturally occurring sync and swarm
phenomena, represents a beginning.
Finding
ways to describe and study “emergent qualities” arising from creative group
improvisation would be a valuable contribution, and Borgo at least identifies
the possibility and seeks out a theoretical framework from other disciplines.
However, when seeking out musical examples to illustrate, it seems a stretch to
refer to Evan Parker improvising with recorded birdsong, just because birds can
exhibit interesting “swarm” behaviour. There is, in fact, quite a body of work
in the computer music domain that draws on feedback loops to manifest emergent
behaviour (software based on neural networks, for example, or self-modifying
genetic algorithms). While Borgo does mention Brian Eno’s fascination with
Conway’s Game of Life computer program, he does not seem to have looked into
other significant work in this domain. Borgo goes on to pack in references to a
variety of related concepts (“swarm” leads to “network” and to “hubs,” for
example) and some references to music. The connections are tenuous at times,
but also thought-provoking, particularly when Borgo reminds us that social
factors may also be important determinants in shaping the dynamic evolution of
network hubs.
The
final chapter, “Harnessing Complexity,” looks at pedagogical strategies for
nurturing group creativity primarily in the domain of improvised music. He
draws on the work of a number of people, including UCSD colleagues Bertram
Turetsky and (former UCSD faculty member) George Lewis, along with Derek Bailey,
Mark Dresser, and others. This is a valuable discussion and a rallying cry:
“Improvising music is not simply an alternative approach to composition, but
rather the ongoing process of internalizing alternative value systems through
music. Multiplicity, therefore, must mean more than simple pluralism. At its
heart, the still nascent shift to multiplicity must involve acknowledging
uncertainty while foregrounding complex visions of agency, identity,
embodiment, community, and culture” (192). At the heart of this concluding text
is Borgo’s conviction that (improvised) music can embody a social network or
community that is more robust and healthy than the predominant models that have
existed previously, both within music and elsewhere in the social order. This
is a worthy aim, and I can only hope that this text will, despite its many
flaws, contribute to its realization, inspiring others to carry the work
further.
Notes
1 The term “fractal” refers to “fractional dimension,” as coined by Benoît Mandelbrot to refer to self-similarity in irregular forms.
Works
Cited
Lewis,
George. 1996. “Improvised Music after 1950: Afrological and Eurological
Perspectives.” Black Music Research Journal 16.1 (1996): 91-122.
Meyer,
Leonard. Music, the Arts, and Ideas: Patterns and Predictions in
Twentieth-Century Culture. 2nd ed. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1994.
Mitchell,
Roscoe. Nonaah. LP. Nessa Records, 1977.
ISSN: 1712-0624
