【英日対訳】ミュージシャン達の言葉what's in their mind


英日対訳:「ダウンビート」キース・ジャレットへのインタビュー (11) 2005年8月 (1/2)

August 2005  

Out of Thin Air  

Keith Jarrett reinvents his approach to the piano, and looks to do the same for his reputation   

By Dan Ouellette  







A few short weeks before both his 60th birthday and the release of an album that he calls the most important of his career, Keith Jarrett is in a buoyant mood, good-natured and eager to converse. It’s a sunny mid-April day at his house in the New Jersey countryside, and he’s high-spirited, a tad feisty and quick to laugh—hardly the demeanor with which most people associate him. To many concertgoers and even his diehard fans, Jarrett is seen as brilliant yet growly, astonishing yet dour, someone to admire but not anyone you’d want to hang out with.   

60歳の誕生日と、彼が「自分の音楽人生で最も重要」と言うアルバムのリリースを数週間後に控える中、キース・ジャレットはご機嫌で、とにかく気さくに人と言葉をかわしたい、そんな様子だ。陽光も眩しい4月も半ばのある日、自宅のあるニュージャージー州の片田舎で、彼は陽気で元気よく、どこか少し威勢の良い親分肌のようで、そしてすぐによく笑う ― それは多くの人々が思い描く彼の姿ではない。彼の多くのコンサート常連客や熱狂的ファンにとって、ジャレットは、聡明で才気に溢れるものの怒りっぽく、いつもあっと言わせてくれるものの気難しく、尊敬すべき人物ではあるものの一緒にいたいとは思わない、そんなイメージだ。 


“My reputation is truly not deserved,” Jarrett says, without a trace of ill temper in his voice.   



“[My reputation] is that I tell people at shows to stop making noise in the hall,” he explains, well aware that he’s probably the only jazz instrumentalist who vehemently demands an attentive audience. “It’s like it’s all personal to them. ‘Oh,’ they say, ‘he’s always in a bad mood or he’s complaining to us.’ Or some people come backstage to see me and don’t like me to be honest about some subject.”   

「コンサートで観客に『ホールで余計な雑音をたてるなよ』と言うのが僕なんだと世間は思っている。」彼がそう弁明するのは、聴衆に “音楽に集中しろ” と強要するジャズの演奏家など、恐らく彼しかいないということをよく自覚しているからだ。「彼ら(聴衆)から見れば、こんなのは僕だけだ、と思ってるだろうね。彼らは『やれやれ、ホントにいつも機嫌が悪いか、文句を言ってくるかのどっちかだな。』なんて言ってるんだろうし、あるいは楽屋まで僕に会いに来る人の中には、僕が何かのテーマについて正直に話すのを嫌がる人だっているんだから。」 


Jarrett has short-clipped, gray-tinged hair, is trim and looks in good shape. “People ask me why I don’t look like I’m about to be 60,” he says. “Well, it’s because I’m always moving. You don’t catch me standing still.”   



That may be the case physically (he’s a walker), but it also underlies the creation of the new release, Radiance, a double live solo album, recorded in Osaka and Tokyo, Japan, in 2002. The two dates not only commemorated Jarrett’s 149th and 150th concerts in Japan, but also introduced a new awareness in the pianist’s creative process.   

それは彼が日頃から体を動かしているという意味でもそうかも知れないが(彼はウォーキングをしている)、2002年に日本の大阪と東京で収録されたニューリリースの2枚組ソロアルバム『Radiance』は、彼が日々 “忙しく” 音楽活動において挑戦を続けていることが礎となって生まれたものだ。この2公演は、それぞれジャレットの日本公演149回目と150回目を記念したものであるだけでなく、このピアニストが音楽創造の過程において、新たに覚醒したことを告げるものであった。 


Jarrett can still learn new tricks—only in this case there was no sleight of hand involved, just pure improvisational freedom that can only be expressed in 10 fingers forging a new relationship with the 88 keys.   



“A couple of months before I went to Japan, I deliberately decided to take away all the hooks and all the things that I preferred in my playing,” Jarrett explains. “I didn’t want to be a victim of my own preferences. That’s what happens to players all the time. They have certain sounds and things their hands like to do better than others, and then you hear them do that all the time.”   



He feigns boredom.   



To close the door on predictability and swing wide the portals to surprise, Jarrett says he had to undo everything that he ever did solo. It was like suffering a brain aneurysm that erased the ornamentation and intent but retained the touch and nuance that Jarrett is known for. It also helped being sidelined from solo performance for several years because of his debilitating bout with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS).   



“It took that gap in my solo playing from 1996 to get to this point,” he says. “I couldn’t have come to understand this being on tour. I had to be at home and in the mood. In essence, I was looking at the piano, and then telling my left hand, ‘Look, you haven’t been let out of the cage. Is there anything you want to say?’”   



The break in Radiance from Jarrett’s earlier solo work is manifold. The CD is his first live solo improvised concert since La Scala, recorded in 1995 and released in 1997, and his CFS-recovery ballads album, The Melody At Night, With You, recorded in 1998 and released in 1999. Jarrett’s most renowned solo performance is 1975’s The Köln Concert, the top-selling solo piano album of all time and a groundbreaking recording in that it pioneered the art of concert improvisation with no preconceived set list.   

『Radiance』がこれまでのジャレットのソロから脱却した点は多岐にわたる。このCDは『La Scala』(1995年録音、1997年リリース)と、慢性疲労症候群からの復帰を遂げたバラッド集『The Melody At Night, With You』(1998年録音、1999年リリース)以来のソロ・インプロヴィゼーションによるコンサートだ。ジャレットのソロで最も有名な作品といえば1975年の『The Köln Concert』である。ソロピアノ史上最も売れたアルバムであり、既成の楽曲によるセットリストを使わない完全即興(予め演奏内容を一切決めずに、白紙の状態で舞台に上がって即興を始めるという演奏スタイル)によるコンサートという芸術を開拓した点で、革新的な録音だった。 



On Radiance, instead of mellifluent music with expansive lyricism, a variety of spontaneous melodies rise up and disappear quickly, not to be repeated again. The tunes also resisted the improviser’s temptation to be named; hence, each piece is designated as “Part 1,” “Part 2” and so on, concluding with “Part 17.” But, perhaps most radically, only one of the pieces is longer than 14 minutes, most clock in the five- to eight-minute range. Two are remarkably short (“Part 4” is 1:27; “Part 11” 1:13).   

いっぽう『Radiance』は、(ケルンのように)伸びやかな抒情性を持つ甘美な音楽ではなく、さまざまな自発的メロディが矢継ぎ早に浮かんでは消え、そしてそれらが再び戻ってくることはない。また、楽曲はインプロヴァイザーの名前をつけたいという衝動を拒み、そのため各曲は「Part 1」「Part 2」という具合に続き「Part 17」で締めくくられる。だがおそらく最も根本的な変化は演奏時間だろう。14分を超えるものは1曲のみで、その殆どは5分から8分間に収まっている。そしてうんと短いものも2曲ある(「Part 4」が1分27秒、「Part 11」が1分13秒)。 


In a solo setting Jarrett actually stops instead of playing a full-set segue, where in the past he’d weave melodies into a tapestry that could cover an entire wall of a high-ceilinged museum. On Radiance, he used smaller canvases, with the color, depth and unusual design that more resembles the flat-weaved kilims that adorn the inside of his house. This too was a revelation that he discovered in his home practice studio.   



“I started to play and then would stop if I felt there was an end,” he says, then asks rhetorically, “why wasn’t I doing this before? I’d be fully into the music, but maybe I was missing the whole point. I always keep a watch onstage to look at. In the past, there’d be times when I felt like stopping 25 minutes into a 40-minute set, but I’d look at the watch and say I can’t stop now. I’ll lose the whole flow, so I’ll keep playing. But then I started to think about it the other way around. If I lose the flow, that’s good because I may not want to hear what’s coming next. So, I’ll stop. Why keep playing? Just because you know how to do that?”   




Jarrett laughs and continues, “That got me fascinated in the creative process. Where’s the resolution? How do pieces end? If I start to play and a minute-and-a-half later I feel a piece is over, I’ll stop. It’s the freedom to stop when stopping seems correct.” While exploring this newfound freedom, Jarrett was also reading mathematician Stephan Wolfram’s 1,280-page tome, A New Kind Of Science, a book about computers and mathematical science that espouses a new paradigm for understanding how the universe works. At heart, Wolfram’s book puts forth, as one critic calls it, “that simplicity begets complexity.”   

ジャレットは笑いながら更に話を続ける。「このことは僕の創作意欲を掻き立てたよ。解決策はどこにある?どうやって曲を終わらせる?もし弾き始めて1分半でも「終わりだな」と感じたら弾くのをやめるんだ。僕が演奏をやめてもいいと思える時にやめるのが自由というわけだよ。」この「新しい自由」を探求する一方でジャレットは、数学者スティーヴン・ウルフラムの1280ページにも及ぶ大著『A New Kind Of Science』を読んでいた。この本は宇宙がどのように機能するかを理解するために新しい考え方の枠組みを提唱する、コンピュータと数理科学に関するもので、その内容が示す本質は、ある評論家に言わせれば「単純性が複雑性を生み出す」ということである。 


Why read that book in particular?   



“I read a review of it and got interested in his concept.”   



Are you interested in computers?   



“Not at all. I don’t have a close relationship to them and never will.”   



And you read the entire book?   



“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’ve been known to do this. I force myself. It’s one of those things from Guru Dev. He said something like you must move your brains every day. So this was a challenge that I set up parallel to the music.”   



And the music was also a challenge?   



“Yeah. I was in a no man’s land. And here right in the middle of this search this book gets released. And I thought, I’m not going to overlook anything. That’s a part of the serendipitous nature of improvised music.”   



And what did the book bring to the music?   



“It got me thinking about how I had got myself locked into a slightly too complicated situation where the rules I had made for myself had been governing me—instead of making simple rules that could take me somewhere new. Making simple rules leads to more complex behavior.”   



Jarrett says he only recognized how truly profound Radiance was musically when he immersed himself in the material to “get everything right” in the live mixes in preparation for release. “I started to realize how important this album is,” he says. “Recently I talked with an interviewer who commented, ‘This is so tightly constructed,’ and I thought that could be true.”   



In the liners to Radiance, Jarrett notes, “The event lays itself out as it happened. I was slightly shocked to notice that the concert had arranged itself into a musical structure despite my every effort to be oblivious to the overall outcome. I should not have felt this way, however, for the subconscious musical choices of sequence were made out of the personal need for the next thing.”   



Jarrett says he didn’t realize there was such an arc to the performance until he came home and listened to the tapes. He said to himself, as if objectifying the listening experience, “How did this guy know how to play that next?” He laughs, “Yeah, that was me. I was there and I played. And I don’t know except that there are miracles in the music.”