December 28, 2000–January 4, 2001

music

In Media Ra

Practice, practice, practice: Arkestra member Knoell Scott at residency rehearsal. photo: Scott Weiner

Local string players find themselves in the middle of jazz’s most cosmic troupe.

by a.d. amorosi

When avant-garde jazz composer/ pianist/cosmic traveler Sun Ra left the earth in May 1993, it was hard to imagine his band, the Arkestra, continuing. But Ra — a.k.a. Herman Blount — attached his music, his unique arrangements and his spirt to those who would carry on, making joyously skronking squalor.

Marshall Allen, Ra’s principle saxophonist since the mid-’50s, took over the Arkestra, living in Ra House in Germantown, playing Ra’s music as well as his own. In his hands, and those of alto saxophonist Knoell Scott (with Ra’s band since 1979), Allen has continued the business of interstellar jazz.

Incorporating the new has always kept the Arkestra fresh. But what could be new when you’ve been in the cosmos for so long? How about teaching young musicians how to fly, Ra-like, toward the sun?

Bringing strings into the Arkestra fold — even for one month — has been the mission of the Painted Bride Arts Center and Asociacion De Musicos Latinos Americanos (AMLA). Starting this fall, the Bride and AMLA — as part of the Bride’s two-year educational initiative made possible through a major money grant from the Doris Duke Foundation and the NEA — held auditions for ten paid string section residencies with Allen’s Sun Ra Arkestra. The residencies, besides culminating in the Bride’s now-annual New Year’s Eve Space Is The Place Spectacular, have allowed talented locals a chance to re-think their musical sensibilities.

Painted Bride’s jazz/world music curator Lenny Seidman came up with the idea for workshops involving well-deserved icons. On a rainy night in September, some thirty locals lined up to play Allen’s and Ra’s compositions. While Allen stalked the stage, Scott led violins, cellos, basses, harp, mandolin, guitars, the occasional flute and the singular contrabass clarinet through Allen’s customized arrangements.

Seidman initiated the process after the Bride was invited by the Duke Foundation to vie for grant monies. "That got me thinking of what we do best here," says Seidman of the Bride. "Historically that means residencies — Zakir Hussein (which birthed Seidman’s own Spoken Hand outfit), David Murray, Butch Morris — where we involve locals with major artists." He wanted someone whose music said something beyond the notes. Allen and Scott had a taste for the educational process; they realized Ra’s legacy must be passed on. Allen ("the sweetest guy") and Scott ("the task master") wanted locals who had an inner glow and were exceedingly flexible in their playing and thinking. If you weren’t free-thinking, you weren’t Ra enough.

"What I am looking for," said Scott during the auditions, "are players with a clean sense of time, regardless of interpretation. People who are musically proficient to grasp what Marshall wanted them to play. True rhythm undulates. Like a yin and yang. Like a ship."

Violinist Gloria Justen — known for experimental noise (Slipping Into Sublimity) as well as the Philadelphia Orchestra — was phoned on the basis of her improvisational prowess. She came and knocked the bottom out of the Ra process even though she’s not a jazz player. "I wasn’t quite sure what they were looking for," she explained. "I’m not certain they were sure either. I think they’re looking for a diverse string session to play songs as opposed to improvisations. I would have liked it if it was more spaced-out like their records."

Another female violinist, Bianca Gallagher, felt they didn’t care for her intonation. "They were nice about it. But I don’t think they liked what I was doing."

Justen and Gallagher were among the winners present at rehearsal in December, along with two female cellists from the audition process, Jodi Beder and Ginger L. Smith, harpist Gloria Galante and Staten Island stand-up bassist Liza Mezzacappa. Her dedication to Ra compelled Scott and Allen to overlook her out-of-city status.

What Seidman finds fascinating is that so many women auditioned. "Historically, except for vocalists and dancers way back, the Arkestra has never had any women in it. I like it. It breaks down sexual and gender barriers."

Allen and Scott were amazed at how proficiently a string section came together. "So many tunes I’ve written, I’ve written to a keyboard on ‘string’ mode," laughs Allen. "Push a button. Sounds like one violin. Now, here I was able to hear all these strings at once. And it was beautiful."

On the chilliest December evening at the Bride, Knoell Scott — natty in a chocolate corduroy suit and porkie hat — saws his arms violin-like at his ensemble. The circling players — in between singing poems about "space worlds" and shuffling tattered piles of sheet music — seem as much in awe as they are in contemporary union. "Dot dash DOT… DASH" he’s saying in Ra code. The players — the ten winners and two Ra men in a circle — instinctively understand his meaning, running through songs like "Fate In A Pleasant Mood" and "East Of The Sun" once more before full dress rehearsal with sixteen more Ra guys.

Scott is sing-instructing, waving his arms while balancing a flute in one hand and his alto sax under his arm. A wonderfully bizarre harp solo appears out of nowhere, leading "Sun" to roll like hot jazz. Each older Ra tune, from a watery "Carefree" to "Like Thelonius," is like a new carnival coming through town.

"I’ve heard this music for thirty years," says Seidman, proudly in awe of the process. "This has been so expansive for me to hear the Ra sound broken down."

The dissection and the elegant discord of the new string arrangements has given Ra’s music youthful ardor. Ra’s music has given the young classicists — seasoned stiff pros and novices alike — new musical life as well. "They had to learn the Ra legacy of breathing the music."

It’s fascinating to watch the players. Ginger L. Smith jumps out of her seat, bopping and swaying to each sound and inner pulse. She seems the most Ra-like. Mezzacappa is closing her eyes and bobbing her torso over her large bass, a complete contrast to her fellow bassist. Gallagher’s intonation is still a bit off but fits perfectly with the Arkestra’s skewed sound. "Off-intonation is rabid," laughs Seidman. "But luckily within the Arkestra, you can get away with that."