John Coltrane’s Favorite Things Remembered with Goose Bumps

©Copyright 2017: Richard von Sternberg, All Rights Reserved

The John Coltrane Quartet Made New Jazz Blossom with My Favorite Things

As I write this, I realize that I am so old now that my parents grew up on Dixieland and swing era music and crooned to the love songs of the era of the Great War of the 1940’s.  I was born as the war ended and my childhood began when the baby boom exploded, affluence came in like a tide and jazz music had evolved to what they called be-bop.

Hermosa Beach as Jazz Music Epicenter

As I grew up, so did my little town of Hermosa Beach.  Jazz music has always been esoteric and a “taste” one acquires, a genre of music. Its followers have always been a minority here.  Jazz musicians from the 30’s forward have noted that their audiences were far larger in Europe than here.  During my teen years, conditions had ripened enough that jazz was readying itself for a major transformation in tempo and style and a place in society.  Jazz performers began to appear in large cities all over America: The Village Vanguard, The Jazz Workshop, Carnegie Hall, Newport, Shelly’s Manne Hole, The Jazz Gallery, and one of the most famous clubs of all, Howard Rumsey’s Lighthouse in Hermosa Beach.

In my little town of Hermosa Beach, a town of one square mile with a population of 13,000, filled with artists and reclusive types as well as Ph.D. engineers, masters of rocket science with jobs at Jet Propulsion Laboratories, North American Aircraft Company, actors with Hollywood careers, all kinds of people, a jazz night club managed to flourish, draw crowds on the weekends as the likes of John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, Shorty Rogers, and, and, and………performed.  They were magnetic performers in a magnetic venue right down from the Hermosa pier on Pier Avenue who drew enormous crowds of people from all over Los Angeles, people who came to ride the wave of a beautiful, rapidly evolving music based on soulful and masterful improvisation.

Experiencing Jazz Live Made it Irresistible

As a boy I was not allowed in, as it was, after all, a nightclub with liquor.  Luckily for me, at the end of the performers’ stage was a Dutch door that just HAD to be kept open during the humid nights of that warm, Mediterranean-like climate enjoyed by the neighbors of my youth, and I perched myself right at that Dutch door and could almost reach out and touch the performers, they were so close.  One could say that I stumbled on the jazz scene and that I probably would have missed it had the Lighthouse club not been there yet, once discovered, was gripped by it. Changed by it.

Miles Davis

I was still in junior high school when I discovered Miles Davis. Miles appeared to be arrogant and sometimes sat with his back to the audience.  I listened to his music and never thought another negative thing about him again no matter what he did or had done.  Miles was powerful with the trumpet and his arrangements of top performers, one of whom reeled me in with his originality and versatility:  John Coltrane.

The “Trane”

The first time I heard John Coltrane play, I found myself constantly worrying that the run of notes he was building on was leading to a spot he would not be able to get out of and sound like he was still with the overall theme of the music.  He reminded me of W. C. Fields, the famous comedian of the 20^th century who found a way to stand out from all other performers who juggled things like cigar boxes by appearing to drop one of the boxes and retrieve it just at the very last second, causing so much adrenalin to build up in his audience that his save would cause thunderous applauses to occur.

Something happened to jazz at the end of the be-bop era that made it open up, that made it become a spotlight ensemble for performers.  To become a star, you had to be able to transfix the crowds with your solo improvisations, to work on and off the music of the other players and keep your part of the train on the track, touching on the main theme of the piece you were playing, yet stand out brilliantly against the landscape spotlighting your individuality, your personal style and control of your instrument(s).  The one who my childhood intuition told me at the time was the master was John Coltrane.

I can hear the influence of Thelonius Monk, who Coltrane played with for a while, on his music.  In one of his more famous tunes, Little Rootie Tootie, Monk repeats his theme with strong banging on the piano keys, continually touching pairs of keys (next to each other) right to the point of making the listener wonder if he were about to stumble into cacophony, yet with his masterful touch, kept the music exciting by pushing it next door to chaos while managing to keep it tame enough to integrate into one’s soul.

While Coltrane was with Miles Davis there were rumors of irreconcilable ego sparks, but their musical compatibility was at a pinnacle of musicianship and interconnectedness one would expect to only find in thousand year old orchestras led by timeless masters of the baton.  The two of them made musical history together as long as it was possible, until Coltrane finally realized he was meant to be  his own innovator and beta-experimenter, developer of his own ensemble. 

The John Coltrane Quartet is Born

His first attempts to create a group on his own were chronicled by Wikipedia. You can Google this on line:

“Coltrane formed his first quartet for live performances in 1960 for an appearance at the Jazz Gallery in New York City. After moving through different personnel including Steve Kuhn, Pete La Roca, and Billy Higgins, the lineup stabilized in the fall with pianist McCoy Tyner, bassist Steve Davis, and drummer Elvin Jones.”

Tyner, Davis, Jones and Coltrane turned out to be the lightning flashes that lit up the night sky because they were perfect together.  Coltrane saw what he had, looked for a way to satisfy his burning desire to fly with his new-found soprano saxophone in a way only he could play it and in 1960 he surprised even himself with an arrangement of a gentle, melodious Rogers and Hammerstein Sound of Music crowd pleaser: My Favorite Things.

When I first heard his ensemble play My Favorite Things, I was too young and inexperienced to understand how deeply I was being affected by it, how much a place within me was permanently affected as I stood, riveted, catatonically put into a state that elevated, the way the Bach intended to elevate the soul with his deeply moving sacred music for the organ:  that transcendent musical state where you feel no separation between the self and the music you are listening to or performing.

I listened to a Nancy Wilson radio program about John Coltrane in which she explained that he picked My Favorite Things at a time when he was becoming fascinated with the instruments and music of India.  Perhaps from a conversation she had with him she learned that he was attempting to blend the elements of Indian music with the waltz rhythm of My Favorite Things and discovered he had found a way to launch his most amazing solos and contrast every note against the exotic and gentle background so that every part of the music supported his genius-level improvisation.

His album, My Favorite Things, broke into the market like a thunderstorm with whirlwinds in 1961.  Coltrane’s switch from the alto to the soprano saxophone – essentially announced to the world through My Favorite Things – caused, according to my professor of jazz music in college, Phil Elwood, who was the jazz critic for the San Francisco Examiner, around 20 thousand soprano saxophones to be sold in the next few days all around the world.  With one musical score, John Coltrane, known in his world as “Trane”, changed jazz music forever.

It was a collaborative endeavor with Coltrane at the helm and his three choices of accompanists, all of whom were the best at what they did, making up the John Coltrane Quartet.  It was the moment Miles Davis dreaded most as the “Trane” left his station.  (Professor Elwood told us Davis broke down and sobbed as he realized what he was losing.) 

The first time I heard the recording (not the first time I heard the ensemble play live), I heard the one error that McCoy Tyner makes in his triangular piano run of waltz patterns with one slight extended second per triangle, an error he makes when one of his fingers touches two keys at once and one of the hammers lands harder than the other on the piano strings making it sound like something was off a tiny bit, leaving you unsure whether it was intentional or not.  I got the first recording in 1960 in the middle of my teens and played it until it was mostly scratch sounds.  I shared what I found with everybody I met who enjoyed jazz music and even pointed out the micro-error made by pianist Tyner.  Professor Elwood pointed that out as well back then, and, many years later, I heard Tyner refer to the “blip” in an interview as a great unnoticed mistake.  He pointed out, with tongue in cheek, that every critic referred to that recording of My Favorite Things as a flawless performance, so he didn’t have to be disappointed in himself.

What is it about it that allowed that one mixture of sounds to be perceived in such an extraordinary way?  The first impression you get hearing it the first time is familiarity because the quartet did not try to disguise their music.  For the sake of clarification, since many people think that Julie Andrews introduced the tune to the world in a movie, here is the My Favorite Things timeline, also from Wikipedia:

“The song was first performed by Maria (played by Mary Martin) and Mother Abbess (Patricia Neway) in the original 1959 Broadway production.

Julie Andrews performed the song for the first time on the Christmas special for The Garry Moore Show in 1961, and then in the movie in 1965.”

What Happens to a Person Taken by Coltrane's Rendition of My Favorite Things?

In the quartet recording, introduction-of-the-piece honors were given to Tyner as he and his cohorts set the rhythm and prepared the ear for what was to follow.  For all those who had already heard the Rogers and Hammerstein version, it must have seemed like a look at a familiar, treasured place over its reflection on a lake where a very slight breeze is blowing, just enough to ripple the surface and make the reflection an impressionist-influenced look at the same thing.  

Two extremely beautiful, but different, scenes blended stereoscopically into a rhapsodic panorama.  Tyner, Davis and Jones, with familiarity, harmony, sweet piano patterns and crisp percussive touches slowly and seductively set the stage for the ignition of Coltrane’s first rich sound that, for those inclined toward such things, grabs you, pulls you away from EVERYTHING ELSE and lulls you into listening to the familiar, quickly ratcheting up several levels of complexity as Coltrane respectfully plays Rogers and Hammerstein adding a dash or two of his unusual approach, then lets his fingers begin to speed around his sax keys faster than a person can even think of them moving, making multiple sounds where one or two are expected, sending ping pong balls of sound ricocheting all around the room.  Just as you begin to think that the roller coaster has left the track and an embarrassing crash is about to occur, as I mentioned earlier, Coltrane is already back on the main track leaving you to “replay the tape in your head”, subconsciously “examine the evidence” to see if all of what you just heard really was “correct” and, if you perceive the genius, wonder how it was possible for any human being to do that.  In the background, Elvin Jones provides a perfect musical heartbeat, error free from beginning to end and Steve Davis fills in all the blanks with his bass in a way that is so natural it is barely noticed consciously, but, removed, would make the selection sound like stereo with one speaker missing.

If you have never heard the recording, it is available on line here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YHVarQbNAwU

Please leave a comment on this blog post.  I am curious to see people’s take on Coltrane’s letting go of the ball almost until it hits the floor, then, reversing the impression leaving you in awe.

Richard von Sternberg, May 15, 2017

From Air Force Boot Camp to Transgender Heroine

Gender Manifests from Within

©Copyright 2016: Richard von Sternberg, All Rights Reserved

Unfortunate Accident on the Highway

I was 23, married, and a Spanish teacher when my first communication from the Selective Service arrived, ordering me to appear for a pre-induction physical during the height of the Viet Nam War.  

Six years before that, in an accident in which my passenger (and closest friend) was killed as we broadsided a drunk driver who had turned left across the lane I was in without looking to see if anybody was coming -- at 40 miles per hour -- a driver who was so inebriated that they could not administer anesthesiology for three hours as his blood alcohol was at dangerous levels, we soared through the air from the motor scooter we were on, over the car and onto the roadway beyond. 

 

My friend was killed instantly and, miraculously, I was not.  Instead, I developed a form of arthritis that is apparently easy for an orthopedic specialist to detect from an X-ray.

Arthritic Iteration

In college I began to notice my arthritis for the first time and was counseled by the university physician to speak to a specialist.  X-rays were taken, my arthritis was identified and, as there was no known cure, the doctor told me to be careful with my neck throughout life, and expect it to worsen with time.  I left the office with a synopsis of my condition with his signature, a paper that went into a file at home where it stayed until it was time to go to the pre-induction physical.

During the pre-induction physical, I found an opportunity to have a one-on-one conversation and was able to show the synopsis from the orthopedic surgeon to the sergeant who had agreed to speak with me.  He read it, handed it back to me and said: “The US Army will not accept you if you try to enlist.  Neither will the Navy, the Air Force, the Marines or the Coast Guard as you are considered a risk to the government if you are injured and must be supported for life.  Any of the armed forces can draft you into the military in spite of your arthritis however.”

Retired Air Force Officer Creates Superior Foreign Language Program

Had it only been me, I would have been lapped up by the military machine right away.  Instead,

there was another party with a vested interest in my not being drafted: the retired Air Force officer who was in charge of the model foreign language program the State of California had recognized in Sonoma where I was employed as a bilingual specialist, one of few available with the designated credentials at the time.  

Mr. Martin grew quite concerned when the highly watched and emulated foreign language teaching program he had begun – resulting from my potential absence -- might suddenly have a hole in it.  Due to his former military service, he was able to make an appointment to see an important person in Sacramento who signed two deferments (one per semester) so that I could remain in the articulated foreign language program, but was told there would be no more deferments at the end of that school year.

No doubt because Mr. Martin had experienced so much success in the Air Force, he steered me in that direction, I enlisted and flew off to boot camp where I met a human being who, in spite of the fact that we have spent only a modicum of time together, made a lifelong impression on me.

Abrupt Shock at Lackland Air Force Base

In a minute’s time in this new environment I went from being a salient professional married to an ideal mate to a piece of dirt floating in a washing machine, alone, just another Airman of thousands being “processed” through military basic training.  This after having taught at a university, a junior college, two non-public high schools and in a model program covering grades 6 through senior in college.  I was 5 to 6 years older than all the other Airmen in my squadron.

The haircut down to scalp level, the uniform, the classes, the cafeteria, the marching, running, cleaning, studying, organizing, shooting: after not too long one either conformed or, like a fellow three beds down from me in the bay, you woke up in the night screaming and tossing after your psychotic break, the stage where they come and take you away.

Once I caught my breath and stopped feeling sorry for myself, I began to observe the people around me and how they went about what they did, how they learned, how quickly, how they adapted.   Perhaps because I had been so recently ground through the college mill, where mental obstacles as difficult as the physical obstacles of the daily maneuverings of fresh enlistees had already become a way of life for me, I began to observe and reflect on the processes employed in the structure of the training I was now part of.  I looked to see what the goals and objectives were behind each step of the training and came to respect all the brain power and organizational skill that had engineered the methodology to inculcate into the troops the objectives of general military thinking in the form of recognizable and testable skill sets all military personnel absolutely had to master.

There is a Right Way, a Wrong Way, and the Military Way

We were overgrown adolescents who were not in tune with the adult value of accepting responsibility for the things we did and the wake they left in the world around us.  Making every Airman aware of everything he does wrong in behavior, dress and skill mastery, scolding, punishing, constantly inventing hypothetical situations that can occur any moment, like forgetting to salute an officer, and causing worry about the danger of allowing that, or a thousand other similar things, to happen, reduces all the players in the training program to operating under the dark cloud of fear that Shakespeare mentioned in Hamlet:  “Best safety lies in fear”.

The structure is so well worked out, so time-proven, nobody really questions it, only reacts to it.  I wondered as I watched if the overall methodology reflecting the thinking behind it all was the method most likely to achieve the desired results, which were, as we were told, to instill camaraderie and pride.

Operant Conditioning, aka Behavior Modification

I instilled camaraderie and pride in my students, I thought to myself, and what worked best for me was the exact opposite.  I had studied the great psychologists and educators in the teacher credential program and was pretty familiar with the punishment and rewards of the famous Dr. B. F. Skinner’s methods of conditioning, the reasoning behind the fear tactics of military training emphasizing the punishments rather than the rewards.

At the same time, however, I was not only aware of, but had achieved success with its opposite: Positive Reinforcement.  For me the difference was obvious: the approaches, the results and the rewards taught me almost overnight that a person, student or otherwise, will get much further along if his or her motivation is to achieve success instead of being subject to the motivation to avoid failure.

Sergeant Rudy Gieshen, by the end of a week or so, was unable to hide his human side.  He was articulate, intelligent, and had a subtle wit that he could hide when he wanted to and pretend to be angry or upset by a bed not made with the blankets tight enough to bounce a quarter off of.  Without intending to, he let show that he had real feelings for the trainees and took his work seriously enough to think of how everything he was doing reflected on him.  You could tell he was worried when we couldn’t do what we were supposed to be able to by such and such a day like a mother worried about her ducklings being able to fly.

One day I approached the sergeant while we were on the track to run the mile, with the feeling of being a fellow teacher who knew a better way to achieve results, had been exposed to something that worked much better.  In the spirit of sharing my knowledge, I asked him: “Have you ever heard of Positive Reinforcement Behavior Modification?”  He was so caught off guard that he was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time.  His self-consciousness leaked out of all his pores at once as he decided to just say he had not.  I told him, in as few words as I could put it, how much better people did when they thought they were appreciated.  I told him I was a teacher and had learned that compliments take you far further than threats and put-downs.  That to motivate every Airman by being positive when correct behavior is exhibited would achieve the results he is looking for in half the time.

Talk about Fear

Right after the words left my mouth I wondered if I had just done something stupid.  Tampering with the established order of things in a place where it is so established, they have their own system of justice to enforce the norms of the great institution of military power.  I looked for some kind of answer from him and he finally just muttered something under his breath and I rejoined the group of perpetually nervous adolescents, continually reminding each other of all the things to worry about.

The next day during Physical Conditioning I saw Sergeant Gieschen with an officer donning a uniform full of stripes and decorations, the most I had seen up to that day.  “von Sternberg,” he barked at me, “Come here.”  I nearly fainted, thunderstruck with fear of what I had done to myself by questioning the sacred order of the practices of the United States Air Force.  Sheepishly I approached the two and stood before them silently.  I do not remember the officer’s name after so many decades have passed, but Sergeant Gieschen introduced me to one of the “biggies” on base and asked me to please explain to him what I had said about – and I DO remember this clearly – Positive reinforcement behavior modification.

First off it occurred to me that the sergeant I had mistakenly thought was unimpressed by what I had to say had listened so carefully that he was able to repeat exactly what he heard.  Then, however, my most paranoid possible feelings began to overwhelm me as I stood wondering if my head had been placed into a Guillotine and this striped and bannered giant was about to haul me off to the base authorities to explain why I felt the emperor was wearing no clothing.  And who knows what fate lay beyond?

They Got it

Instead, the senior officer listened patiently as I explained the concept in greater detail.  I was so familiar with what I was talking about that I was able to explain and, at the same time, remain aware of the surprise I was feeling by the awe I had inspired in the VERY most unlikely place in life I would have expected it.  Whether this was ultimately leading to a rosier relationship with my military or the brig, I was having one of life’s greatest moments.

At one point in the day, most likely a planned surprise, Sergeant Gieschen blurted out the name of one of the Airmen, got his attention, then proceeded to compliment him for one thing or another he had done right.  As the very old saying goes: you could have heard a pin drop.  I could feel heat come to my face as I recognized the effect my words had initiated and knew exactly how that adolescent felt right then.  And it continued.  Gieschen tested the system a little at a time, saw it worked and kept going as we all began to drop our guard but not our respect.  In fact, the level of respect began to climb and kept going to the end of the training.

Each recruit began to talk about what they felt as a result of the way the sergeant had changed his approach.  I wondered the obvious: was this human being unusual in some way in being open to a radically different idea, not afraid of it or inclined to extinguish it?  Had I approached any of the other flight leaders, or just ones who were rigidly opposed to entertaining novel ideas, my words may not have led to trouble, but likely would have fallen on deaf ears.  I could not have approached the base commander to broach the subject of applied psychology, but any of the instructors could, and my sergeant did.  Hence, the talk among the troops continued to ferment.

Famous Literary Heroes

In a dream like state while taking care of some mundane task I had a higher consciousness moment and saw Rudy Gieschen as a hero with a halo, a fellow human on the other side of my human equation of kindness, a kindred spirit.  Being strong in personality, and now having caught a wave of success in his training, he reminded me of respected heroes, unsung and otherwise, who have inspired others to greatness, probably because I had studied literature fairly recently and was still filled with the many stories of great classic heroes. 

I decided to write the base commander to tell him how I felt that Sergeant Gieschen deserved some special recognition for learning one concept and suddenly blossoming as an inspirational leader.  I composed the letter, written in long hand on USAF stationery, and shared it with the rest of the men in my flight while asking them to sign it with me if they agreed.  I wish there could have been a way to capture the moment of panic as, one by one, each fellow smarted inside from the burst of self-consciousness created by the thought of stepping out of the shadows of “Please don’t notice me” obscurity.  It was a tough sell for me, but I was able to get every signature, put the letter in an envelope, address it to the base commander and deliver it in person to the main office.

A few days later the sergeant called a meeting in the day room and thanked us all for whatever it was we had done to get him suddenly recognized and rewarded.  The moment of goodness I had hoped for now extended itself into my whole basic training initiation as I saw the sergeant become empowered enough to make a difference and feel good about it.  He invited me to meet his family off base, took me to a German restaurant somewhere in San Antonio.  A friendship bond formed that began in 1970, one of the kind that connects at a level of humanity deeper than all the issues we carry on the surface such as our political and religious beliefs, biases and so forth.  The kind that remains intact even in the absence of any communication.

The only other time I saw Rudy was when my wife and I drove to Mexico via the Pan American Highway where it begins in Texas and detoured to San Antonio to spend a couple of days with Rudy’s family before we headed south of the border.  That visit reinforced all the great feelings that began with boot camp but was our last visit for decades.

When the Wheel of Life Turns and you are not Watching

Out of the blue I received a communication from a Gieshen whose first name was Rachel, scaring me a little that a relative of my hero was contacting me to say Rudy had passed.  Instead it was Rudy who said he/she was born into man’s body but identified with female instead.  This was the first person in my immediate life, as opposed to in a news story or a magazine article or TV program who had done this.  Gieschen surprise number two.  If enough decades pass between visits, it should not even come as a surprise that there are surprises.  If the bond that formed in the beginning is a strong one, then the many changes do not change the nucleus.  Same hero, new form.

Rachel enjoys traveling and booked a tour to the West Coast to see some famous sites a couple of months ago and I drove to Sacramento to spend a day eating Italian food and catching up.  So this story of personal change has a happy ending.  Forty-seven years later, still friends.

Richard von Sternberg, December 26, 2016