The Manrilla Blog | Life. Art. Religion. Culture.

It is quite amazing when one thinks about the number of issues that the American Muslim must rankle with today. By this I mean, the litany of subjects American Muslims must sift and filter through their Islam (or so we believe): education, cultural engagement (or lack there of), sex and eroticism. The list goes on. And on that list, music would have to be included. “Akhiy, you listen to music? Don’t you know that’s haram?” How many of us have heard that line? Well, this is neither the post, time or current moment I plan to engage the permissibility of that subject (though I do plan to write a post on it to engage the idea of cultural navigation on behalf of American Muslims). Rather, I solely wanted to express the thoughts that skimmed across my mind as I entered the International House Philadelphia to see Cecil Taylor perform tonight.

A congratulatory word should be expressed to IHP and Ars Nova for making the performance possible. Not only for the significance of bring a musician of the notoriety and calibre of Taylor to Philadelphia but to keeping jazz and improvisational music alive in our community.

To begin with, Cecil Taylor is not for the feint of heart, the unimaginatory, or the wary. Having come to some renown playing with John Coltrane, Taylor quickly established himself as a champion of the avante-garde movement in jazz. Taylor attacks the piano with a ferocious yet tempered sensibility. To the layman’s ear, Taylor’s rumblings can be easily mistaken and dismissed as at best the ramblings of a mad genius or a worst, noise. But for one who has the patience and courage, patterns can be found in his reverberations.

I will not challenge the opinion that his music is not melodic. This is perhaps the hardest part in engaging Taylor’s music. Time signatures are tossed out. Traditional senses of melody and harmony are expunged. Instead, Taylor approaches the piano as a drummer might his drum set. His playing is highly percussive, the rhythm and pattern of how he hammers out nimble, precise lines, running up and down the full length of the keyboard are reminiscent of a xylophonist. But even amidst some of his most violent passages, Taylor balances the sound out with a gentle and peculiar touch, evoking tender chord voicings, how ever unorthodox they may seem.

For myself, it was as much the event (and by that, the importance of seeing Taylor) as it was his music that was important for me. I must confess, I do not have much from Taylor in my personal jazz collection. But he is a significant persona in the history of jazz. And given that there are so few legends left who possess the health and creativity that Taylor does, I felt obligated to partake in the concert.

If there’s one album I can recommend of Taylor’s it would be The Great Paris Concert. This album is considered to have captured one of the great live jazz concerts of all-time (that you must decide for yourself). But if you feel curious, check out the album here at the iTunes Music Store.