The form may seem either exceedingly simple or prodigiously complicated. One may regard the piece as a simple groove with static pitch organization, and ignore the rhythmic interplay among the various cycles (as I realize now that I have done, in guest performances with the ensemble); or one may instead hear the entire form embodied in the rhythmic progressions -- the unfolding relationships among the different-length rhythms. The following quote from Ladzekpo provides a useful interpretation that is in keeping with the M-Base concept:
As a child going through this normal routine of Anlo-Ewe upbringing, my lack of subtleties in performing new sophisticated rhythmic contrasts were frequently criticized as a lack of a strong sense of purpose capable of regulating the dynamics of contrasting obstacles in life. Blocking off a beat scheme to ease the hostility between opposing beat schemes of unfamiliar rhythmic contrast was often severely punished as my avoidance of the real challenges in life. (Ladzekpo, "Cultural Understanding")Scrutiny of Coleman's saxophone improvisation shows a significant amount of interaction with the different parts, similar to the interaction of the lead drum in a West African ensemble with the fixed parts of the other drums. Isolated examples of this occur at measures A5-A6, where the improvised line rearticulates the rhythm in the bass, and at B8 and C2, where the phrasing is antiphonal with the saxophone background lines. Furthermore, if one applies a "minimum-syncopation principle" to his phrasing, one finds that the main pulse is accentuated more (e.g. see A2-A4), than the deceptive off-beat pulse. Occasionally, however, Coleman plays with the ambiguity of the main pulse; listen to measures A2 and A3, where the same accented G#'s are displaced by a half-beat.
The pitch content of his lines plays with the ambiguity of the static "tonality" established by the other instruments. The sound may be called F#minor, though the most heavily accented bass note is F (or E#), as is the most frequent guitar note. The simultaneous presence of these two "tonalities" provides much material for the improvisor, if, again, he or she chooses to accept the "challenges in life." Coleman's initial improvised phrases (A1) sound roughly like F#minor, but gradually (e.g., B4) the pitch organization is explored in less direct ways. Later (E6) he plays with the ambiguity with a brief Signifyin(g) reference to "bebop" styles -- a stock phrase in the key of F. As the rest of the improvisation shows, this kind of overt, humorous reference is quite rare in Coleman's playing, but it shows that his musical "roots" indeed lie where he says they do -- in the black creative musicians of this century.
A most intriguing sequence in the piece is the rhythmic bridge, which occurs twice in this recording (C6, E7). The "telescoping" sequence consists of a fixed rhythmic phrase (played percussively, a major second apart, by two saxophones) separated by a varying number of rests. Starting on the first off-beat of the beginning of the form (so that the first note coincides with the bass and bass-drum accent), the phrases are grouped thus as 4+1/2 beats, 5 beats, 5+1/2 beats, and 5 beats, for a total of 20 beats -- i.e., 4 times through a 5-beat phrase. The 4+1/2-beat phrase (3+1/2 beats plus 1 beat of rest) forms an "incomplete" 5-beat phrase, of which the later 5+1/2-beat phrase serves as a "complement." The total 20-beat phrase can be repeated any number of times, and may or may not break up the underlying 30-beat form. It serves as a release or contrast to the main material, similar to James Brown's practice of "takin(g) it to the bridge." It also reemphasizes the central notion of rhythmic contrast, and shows the way that this is internalized by the musicians. Attention to a live recording of this piece (Coleman, Curves of Life) shows the degree to which this music is performed and expanded upon quite naturally by some core M-Base participants.
In performance, the musicians must be able to communicate freely and expressively within these textures. Preparation for performance involves learning to hear these contrasting rhythms simultaneously. Though this requires much self-study, the participants tend to learn a great deal from each other. Just as each musician has a different rhythmic group upon which to focus, each member also contributes a different perspective to the formation of the musical totality. Coleman says of collective learning,
By learning with others you can get instant feedback from other creative minds (each bringing to the table different experiences and insights) DURING the learning process. This enables a kind of collective experience that can be drawn upon when internalizing information the first time. Individual learning does not have this advantage (although it does have its own advantages, but you can always learn on an individual level. You have to reach out and interact with others to learn collectively). I don't believe collective learning is stressed in the west. Performing music in a creative group is collective learning as is playing in a big band of some sort but I'm speaking now of collective learning in the more general and traditional concept of studying and conceptualizing together with others. (Coleman, "An Interview")My own experience interacting with the musicians in the group Five Elements (and working on similar rhythmic ideas in other ensembles) has supported these claims. When all members of the group have internalized and mastered the rhythms performed by all musicians, the possibilities are heightened for improvised interactivity. Ladzekpo again corroborates this approach, phrasing it in more global terms:
[R]hythm is not only the whole feeling of movement in music, but also the dominant feature which, along with others, create the transcendent environment (music) necessary for the vital needs of communal communication and unification... Its medium provides the training and the logical means of subjecting contrasting forces or moments in human existence to human control. (Ladzekpo, "Rhythmic Principles")
Another valuable musical example that features the cross-cultural exchange of personal narrative occurs on a recent album by Steve Coleman and the Mystic Rhythm Society, entitled Myths, Modes and Means. This group features Japanese-American kotoist Miya Masaoka, Morrocan vocalist Yassir Chadly, American rapper/lyricist Kokayi (Carl Walker), percussionist Josh Jones, trumpeter Ralph Alessi, and the keyboardist-author, in addition to the core Five Elements personnel of Coleman, pianist Andy Milne, bassist Reggie Washington, and drummer Gene Lake. Because many of the former musicians are either unfamiliar with the music of Five Elements or have not learned its technical specifics, the emphasis shifts to broader notions of interactivity. Lewis writes,
[T]he nomadic movement of populations has resulted in the opportunity for a kind of transcultural experimentalism, where the experimental is embodied, not in concepts of timbre, extended techniques, pitch organization or formal devices, but in the intercultural encounter itself, as a locus of communication between traditions. (Lewis 1995a)In the entirely improvised introduction to "Finger of God" (Coleman, Myths) common elements among the respective musical vocabularies -- such as the use of a "drone" pitch -- provide points of departure for the various musicians. Each interacts with these elements in his or her own respective way. For example, vocalist Chadly appears to hear the drone pitch, G, as the fifth scale degree (the "dominant" pitch), as his improvisations seem to imply a modality rooted in C. One might say that the ensuing tonal multiplicity embodies the multiplicity of viewpoints that creates the music.