Whenever the term formulaic improvisation is mentioned with Bebop, I habitually try to close my eyes and visualize myself standing in front of the LEGO Imagination Centre in the Mall of America, suddenly an excited six-year-old again, overwhelmed by the limitlessness of what these tiny LEGO building blocks can construct. A LEGO Tyrannosaurus, a LEGO pancake, or even a LEGO duplication of Coleman Hawkins stature in the downtown Saint Joseph, Missouri. Anything. We could build anything. I have no doubt about it.

But when we finally got an opportunity to visit the Mall of America’s Legoland after performing in Minneapolis, Minnesota in a stormy-snowy day in February few years back, none of us was in the condition to build anything. Musician Major-Triad was very sick. Musician Mixolydian-Mode energetically tried to convince us to see the Great White Shark in the mall’s built-in Aquarium as “once-in-a-lifetime-kind-of-deal.” Musician Leading-Tone-Chord, that’s me, your truly, was simply tired, hungry, and, let’s be honest, a little bit cranky. We quietly got our nourishment in Wolfgang Puck Express and pulled an all-nighter back to our city. 6 a.m. I hit the bed, feeling somewhat guilty, knowing that our lovable Musician Mixolydian-Mode/ Ex-Energizer-Bunny had to work that morning.

So, here you go, a complimentary disclaimer concerning what I am about to share with you. Use it with your own discretion. It is not my fault that, when using any information concerning formulaic improvisation in this series to build your own masterpiece, your supposedly majestic Tyrannosaurus looks more like a lonely pancake without strawberry jam at the end. Besides, it could be a beautiful thing when that actually happened after all.

Before digging into Charlie Parker’s Ornithology motives, let’s direct our attention away from pancakes (admit it, I have you thinking about pancakes for few seconds) and to the essence of formulaic improvisation in Bebop for a brief moment. As we all know, Bebop improvisers often synthesize melodic fragments, known as motives, formulas, figures, or licks, on a platform of an underlying harmonic syntax as one of many improvisational methods to create “artful weaving of formulas, through variation, into ever-changing, continuous lines."1 Charlie Parker scholar Thomas Owens comments on this aspect of Bebop improvisation, citing that “every jazz musician develops a repertory of motives and phrases which he uses in the course of his improvisation. His ‘spontaneous’ performances are actually precomposed to some extend.”2 Hal Crook also states that “most accomplished improvisers, traditional and modern alike, use licks or play recognizable signature-style melodic phrases to some degree in their solos. Many players create their own licks or vocabulary as well, which ultimately leads to developing their own melodic style.”3

It is not too hard to imagine that the formulaic improvisation of “ever-changing lines” might have something to do with Ms. Carrie Bradshaw’s hilarious comment about jazz in HBO’s hit TV series Sex and the City, when Carrie confessed to her jazz bassist boyfriend in “What’s sex got to do with it?” episode, saying that “I don’t like Jazz…I don’t know, you can’t follow it…and there’s no melody.” Carrie was not alone. As illustrious as jazz alto saxophonist Charlie Parker’s ability as one of the greatest formulaic improvisers to bring to “any musical situation a well-rehearsed body of formulas, which he then embedded into his lines in a fluid and frighteningly effortless manner,”4 Parker’s first creative output as a bandleader was harshly tackled by a critic in the Down Beat magazine back in 1946. Although the disc was recorded under the leadership of Parker and titled as Charley Parker’s Ree Boppers, the focus of the review was trumpet player Dizzy Gillespie, who was more publicized at the time. Haynes, then a Down Beat magazine contributor, sketchily remarked on Parker's performance as “far off form-a bad reed and inexcusable fluffs do not add up to good jazz."5 Haynes then went on to accuse the improvised music presented by Parker and his colleagues as being harmful to the development of jazz music:

These two sides are excellent examples of the other side of the Gillespie craze-the bad taste and ill-advised fanaticism to Dizzy's uninhibited style. . . . Good, bad or indifferent, the mass of Gillespie followers will love these sides, for even bad music is great if it's Dizz! This is the sort of stuff that has thrown innumerable, impressionable young musicians out of stride, that has harmed many irreparably. This can be as harmful to jazz as Sammy Kaye!6

The formulaic improvisational technique alone, however, cannot take the sole blame for the curious dismissal of Parker’s first album as a bandleader, as the technique can be easily traced further back into the history of jazz. Jazz scholar Barry Kernfeld explicates the development of formulaic improvisation:

The principal manifestation of the fragmentary idea in jazz is in formulaic improvisation, the most common kind of improvisation in jazz, spanning all styles. In formulaic improvisation many diverse formulas intertwine and combine within continuous lines. Milman Parry and Albert Lord developed this concept after Parry recognized in the late 1920s that recurring phrases in the Iliad and Odyssey might be evidence of oral composition. The two men studied a living poetry, Yugoslavian epics, and applied their findings to the Homeric poems. By extension, Leo Treitler adapted the concept to early Western ecclesiastical chant as a means of explaining how an elaborate, sophisticated music might flourish through time and place in the form of oral tradition, independent of music notation. By further extension, the idea seems appropriate to a good deal of improvised jazz. Particular musicians and groups create a repertory of formulas, which they use again and again in their music.7

Furthermore, for musicians who cannot sleep without first reading few paragraphs of Grove Dictionary of Music, the practice of “the synthesis of pre-existing musical units”8 to create new bodies of works in music, known as centonization, can be traced way back to the era when composers were diligently working on their Gregorian chants. Centonization, the term borrowed from poetry by Ferretti in 1932,9 is a rather modern terminology that compares favorably to the formulaic improvisation technique of which Charlie Parker has mastered. In a discussion of Parker's improvisational technique, James Patrick associates centonization with formulaic improvisation, stating that:

Parker based his solos on the underlying chord structure, endlessly creating new melodies with no obvious resemblance to the originals. In doing so, Parker often used a process known to musicologists as centonization whereby new works are created out of short, preexisting melodic formulas.10

In any case, regardless what you prefer to call it—formulaic technique, centonization, or any other related terminology—I doubt the intellectual disclosure on Bebop and Charlie Parker’s improvisation techniques would radically change our lovely lady Ms. Carrie Bradshaw’s point of view regarding jazz. To be frank, I don’t intend to change it. What intrigues me would be Parker’s off-of-record response to his music being mentioned in outlets of Pop culture. In “Rob-a-Bye Baby” episode in ABC’s hit TV show Psych, when attempting to annoy the receptionist in the Red Balloon Nanny Agency, our affable psychic detective Shawn Spencer said to his pal Gus that “Dude, she has a headache. Start whistling something by Philip Glass.” I would be interested to know what Parker had to say if writers of Psych have decided to go for something like “start whistling something by Charlie Parker” instead. Parker’s response would have been something Bebop, something deliciously jazzy. I am sure of it. Maybe even a funny quotation of the screwball bird Woody Woodpecker’s motive that Parker used to quote!

The formulaic improvisation technique of Charlie Parker's has been thoroughly studied by Parker scholar Thomas Owens. By examining approximately 190 of Parker's improvisations, Owens fabulously classifies Parker's formulas into sixty-four main categories and some of them can be further subdivided into several variants. Owens specifically discusses the classification of motives, or "formulas," used in Parker's improvisations:

Parker's motives fall into several categories. Some are only a few notes long and are adaptable to a wide variety of harmonic contexts. They tend to be the most frequently-used motives, occurring in virtually every key and piece. Others from complete phrases with well defined harmonic implications, and are correspondingly rare. Most motives occur on a variety of pitches, but some are confined to one or two pitch levels. A few occur only in a single group of pieces in a single key.11

Owens’ chosen terminology of “pre-composed” formulas in his aforementioned statement of Parker’s formulaic improvisation technique often projects a peculiar image in my head that Parker, with a 2-B pencil, an eraser, and a stock of music manuscripts, tried to work out what’s about to be improvised in a dark and lonely green room. But, of course, formulas, motives, or licks, are all happy-living things. They grow. They evolve. They develop throughout the history of Bebop like any other vocabulary.

One might consider that Parker’s formulas to the development of the modern jazz are as definitive as “OMG” abbreviation to the  new breed of Internet language. But, as it is, musical formulas, similar to vocabularies of other languages, often take a considerable duration of time to evolve.  To me, it is always a surprisingly entertaining task to trace how a particular formula evolves linearly and contextually.  But before skydiving into the fun-fun-fun historical development of Charlie Parker’s Ornithology motive, let’s take a quick look at the analytical side of  it (Example 1).  This motive, labeled as M.2B by Thomas Owens, features chord tones placed in the metrically strong position and its most common execution is to outline the tonic chord in the key of F. The motive begins with an ascending scalar line to reach the pitch C5, the topmost note of the motive.  The employment of diatonic enclosure can be observed at the midpoint of the motive with the pitch C5 and A4 resolving to the pitch B-flat4 as the associated upper and lower neighboring tone, respectively. The pitch B-flat4 is then embellished with an inverted mordent.  As illustrated, the reduced version of the motive, or its linear backbone, outlines an eight-note cell digital pattern 1-2-3-4-5-4-3-1, which is harmonically agreeable with the F major triad in this case. Owens comments on Parker’s treatment of Ornithology motive, or motive M.2B, stating that the motive is “identical to the first phrase of Parker’s melody Ornithology. Strangely, however, this motive usually appears in F major, and rarely appears in G major, the key of Ornithology. Perhaps the motive occurs primarily in F because the inverted mordent on B-flat is an easy figure for the alto sax.”12

 

Example 1. The linear construction of Ornithology motive M.2B.

 

Now, back to the historical development of the Ornithology motive.  This gorgeous formula can at least be successfully traced back to tenor saxophonist Lester Young’s employment of an identical figure in a performance of Shoe Shine Boy back in 1936.13 Figures that are identical to the Ornithology motive, or motive M.2B, can also be observed in recorded performances from Parker's apprenticeship period as a developing musician (Example 2). As illustrated in the example, Ornithology motive occurred three times in the recorded performances of Honeysuckle Rose dated November 30, 1940. It was also employed as the opening statement in The Jumpin' Blues and has been frequently cited as the source for the opening melodic line of Ornithology. Jazz scholar Carl Woideck comments that "The Jumpin' Blues is most famous for its opening phrase, which trumpeter Benny Harris adapted for his Ornithology, which became a bebop anthem."14 Gary Giddins also cites that on The Jumpin' Blues, Parker's chorus begins with "a characteristic phrase that was later expanded into the famous bop theme, Ornithology."15 Additionally, an identical occurrence of this figure can also be found in Charlie Parker's improvised performance on Honey & Body recorded by Clarence Davis around 1940.

 

Example 2. The occurrences of motive M.2B in performances during Charlie Parker's apprenticeship.


For the convenience of analytical discussion and practicality of incorporating the motive, the formulaic occurrences in Parker's improvisations that can be associated with Ornithology motive, or the motive M2.B in Owens’ classification, are further subdivided into four categories (Example 3). Motive M.2B is defined to denote the complete figure that is often employed as the improvisational opening statement in Parker's Now's the Time. Motive M.2B [cell motive] is the essential figure of this motive group and is frequently employed by Parker as an interior figure within a prolonged improvisational line. Motive M.2B [diminution] is commonly employed as the last part of Parker's signature line. Motive M.2B [Ornithology variation], outlining the melodic contour identical to the opening theme of Ornithology, possesses a dual-functionality. It can be considered as a related occurrence of motive M.2B, and simultaneously, a melodic quotation.

 

Example 3. Four categories of motive M.2B.


In Parker's improvisations on various performances of Now's the Time, occurrences of Ornithology motive class can be frequently found (Example 4). In addition to the aforementioned treatment of using Ornithology motive as the opening statement, Parker also frequently uses this motive to formulate an improvisational line to be inserted into the theme of Now's the Time as a linear elaboration. The instance taken from the eleventh version of Now's the Time in the example illustrates such usage. The Ornithology motive [cell motive], or M.2B [cell motive], is commonly employed as part of descending scalar passage due to its decorative figuration. The occurrences of motive M.2B [diminution], shown in the last two instances, display the typical employment as part of Parker's signature line, which will be addressed in an upcoming of Bebop Cookbook series.

 

Example 4. The occurrences of motive M.2B class in Charlie Parker's performances of Now's the Time.


I am just going to come clean and admit that I, when all's said and done, conduct no up-to-date researches to support what I just rambled with my own brand of excruciating writing style. Nada. Not an iota.  Laziness, however, is not the subject of concern here. Although I do enjoy being lazy in my own unique way once in a while, I am as reasonably active as any reasonably healthy musician.  Lots of interesting people to meet, lots of beautiful places to visit, lots of spaghetti recipes to try, and on top of that, lots of new Pashto vocabularies to master.  Related researches used in this and upcoming articles were all conducted few years back when working on my thesis "Charlie Parker: The Analytical Study of Twenty-Two Performance Versions of Now’s The Time."  Now, the thesis sat inside of my laptop's hard-drive and stares at me with her darling puppy eyes like all of my other jazz materials.  What can I do?  It's time to walk my dog, I guess.  But, some of you might still wonder the justification of illustrating Charlie Parker's formulaic improvisation technique by using only performances of Now's the Time.  Sir, that is a very good question.  Let's see what JK Chang has to say about that:

Instead of broadening the area under discussion to cover the generalities by examining accessible performances in all keys and harmonic syntaxes, Parker’s twenty-two commercially available versions of Now’s the Time have been chosen as the sole study subject. Available versions of Now’s the Time not only provide a sufficient amount of recorded material for compiling correlated data in the statistical investigation, they also constitute valid samples for conducting a painstaking examination of the subtle evolution found in Parker’s improvisations recorded during his most active period as a jazz improviser.16

There!  A quote from my own unbearably long and atrocious thesis.  Awesome.

 

 

Bebop Cookbook_Formulaic Improvisation & Charlie Parker’s Ornithology Motives_JK Chang_Exercises (252.22 kB)
Bebop Cookbook_Formulaic Improvisation & Charlie Parker’s Ornithology Motives_JK Chang_Exercises [BIAB File] (19.2 kB)

  1. Barry Kernfeld, What to Listen for in Jazz (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), 138.
  2. Thomas Owens, “Charlie Parker: Techniques of Improvisation” (Ph.D. diss., University of California, 1974), 17.
  3. Hal Crook, Read Ready, Aim, Improvise! Exploring the Basics of Jazz Improvisation (Germany: Advance Music, 1999), 158.
  4. Kernfeld, What to Listen for in Jazz, 138.
  5. Charlie Parker, review of Charlie Parker: Billie's Bounce and Now's The Time, by Haynes, D. C., Down Beat, 22 April 1946, 15.
  6. Ibid.
  7. Kernfeld, What to Listen for in Jazz, 137.
  8. Geoffrey Chew and James Mckinnon, "Centonization," in The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, ed. Stanley Sadie (London: Macmillan, 2001), vol. 5, 356.
  9. Ibid.
  10. James Patrick, "Charlie Parker," in The Oxford Companion to Jazz, ed. Bill Kirchner (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 324.
  11. Owens, “Charlie Parker,” vol. 1, 17.
  12. Owens' comment continues to puzzle me a bit. Personally, I'd consider the inverted mordent on concert A, if one is to play the motive in G major, is as easy as on concert B-flat for the alto saxophone.
  13. Carl Woideck, Charlie Parker: His Music and Life, The Michigan American Music Series (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1998), 91.
  14. Woideck, Charlie Parker, 91.
  15. Gary Giddins, Visions of Jazz: The First Century (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), 265.
  16. Jen-Kuang Chang, “Charlie Parker: The Analytical Study of Twenty-Two Performance Versions of Now’s The Time” (M.M. thesis, Emporia State University, 2005), 11-12.
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