Anybody listening?

It's the old question: If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

Updated question: If a jazz group plays to an empty room, does it make any noise?

The strangest part of the last year was producing a couple of concerts to be heard by people that could not be seen. One was a performance of "Blue Notes for Lent," seen online by hundreds of people. The only people physically in the venue were the videographer, the audio engineer, a photographer, a student - and my mom (who caught a ride with the photographer, who lives in her town). Jazz musicians frequently play for small crowds and don't need applause to survive, but this was surreal.

No doubt, a YouTube broadcast extended the audience. One of our viewers tuned in from Europe and left a compliment. Others were scattered across the region. No doubt I will never know who most of them are. 

If there is no crowd, the musicians are tempted to play only for themselves. If the audience participates actively - clapping, encouraging, hooting and hollering - the musicians are tempted to play for the crowd. There is a continuum between the polarities, of course, and the sweet spot lies somewhere in between. Jazz musicians aspire to create something better than noise - they are opening up a vein and expressing what's going on inside of them. Yet without an audience, the music has no consequence. It will expire as soon as it hits the air.

As I have handed off the book manuscript to an editor, I've started to look down the road to other projects. On Labor Day weekend, the Quintet will assemble at my church to play one of  our three annual jazz services. We will feature the music of Dizzy Gillespie, one of the cofounders of bebop, and a popularizer of Latin rhythms. 

Dizzy was also an extraordinary showman with a tremendous sense of humor. He was able to shift from the cult-like development of bebop, creating music only for hipsters and other insiders, to performing onstage for enormous crowds. Some of the purists trashed him as a sell-out. The assumption was, "If it doesn't thin out the crowd, it's not real art." 

Really?

Musicians search for the place where artistic integrity and popular appeal overlap. I know it exists. The trick is finding it. And then hovering there for a while. I'd love to hear your opinions in the space below. When does art (or jazz) reach the masses without getting watered down?

Meanwhile, we had a wonderful family getaway to "Da Shore." There was a full week of sun, sand, and seafood. Lots of laughter, too. Everybody showed up. That was the key. Today I acquired tickets for an upcoming AAA baseball game, and most of the brood will show up for that, too. If a tree falls, or a future NY Yankee swings a timber and hits the ball our of the park, there will be a great noise. 

We had some people show up over the weekend in a church in Allentown, as the Presbybop Quartet went back on the road for a second time. On shorter notice than usual, we were invited to make some joyful noise. It's just an hour down the road - although a 9 am set-up time is a challenge for musicians for whom 9:00 comes only once a day. We played well, and the church asked me to preach. I couldn't do that without getting the band involved. It was a lot of fun - for me, for them, and for the crowd. 

All of us showed up. There was music. We heard it.

And let me thank you, too, for showing up and reading these blog posts. Distance separates us, but your presence is palpable. I appreciate it.