Name: Edward Simon
Nationality: Venezuelan
Occupation: Pianist, composer, improviser
Current release: Edward Simon's Femeninas: Songs of Latin American Women is out via ArtistShare.
Recommendations: Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse; Adagio for Strings, Op. 11 - Samuel Barber

If you enjoyed this Edward Simon interview and would like to stay up to date with his music, visit his official homepage. He is also on Instagram, Facebook, and twitter.



When I listen to music, I see shapes, objects and colours. What happens in your body when you're listening? Do you listen with your eyes open or closed?

Generally, I tend to listen to music with my eyes closed. I find that this way I can better tune into the overall listening experience and the effect the music has on my body and mind.

In a live setting, however, the visual component can enhance and inform the listening experience. This is especially true for jazz or improvised music, where the expressions of and communication between band members can enhance and influence the listening experience.

Watching someone like Victor Lewis play, for example, can be an experience in and of itself.



I think that feeling the music in the body is fundamental. Its effects on my body depend on the type of music and the setting. When listening to groove-based or dance music - as is the case with many genres of Latin music - my body will inevitably want to move. This is a natural response, as this type of music is designed to make your body move.

Classical music, on the other hand, tends to be more intellectually engaging. That is not to say that it can't evoke deep emotions. It does - but in a different kind of way.

What were your very first steps in music like and how would you rate the gains made through experience - can one train/learn being an artist?

My early steps were tapping rhythms on a table. I have been fascinated with rhythm and groove since my beginnings. I’ve always loved percussion and consider myself a frustrated drummer.

Growing up in Latin America playing Latin music has proven to be a strong foundation for my musical development. One can train to become an artist. However, there needs to be some natural ability to begin with. Being an artist is probably 10% talent and 90% work. One could have great talent, but this will only take you so far if you lack a work ethic. You have to continually nurture your talent, otherwise, it will stagnate.
 
Throughout my life, I’ve had the privilege of learning from great teachers and playing with many accomplished artists. My experiences and what I’ve learned from my teachers have been tremendously important.

According to scientific studies, we make our deepest and most incisive musical experiences between the ages of 13-16. What did music mean to you at that age and what’s changed since then?

By that age, I was fortunate to have had impactful musical experiences on stage.

When I was 15, I lived in Philadelphia and attended a performing arts high school. I was performing with Latin bands in Philly and hearing live jazz for the first time. Eventually, I played some of my first live jazz gigs with local jazz musicians like Charles Faimbrough, Kevin Eubanks and others like Bobby Watson and Greg Osby from New York City. All I wanted to do was play with and learn from the best musicians around.



Other than the fact that I now have a clearer idea of who I am as an artist, I don’t think much has changed since then. Music continues to be an important vehicle for self-expression. My aspirations continue to be the same: to create quality music and express myself freely through composition, improvisation and performance.

What, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to music and what motivates you to create?

To me, it is key to have a central idea that captures my interest. This could be a harmonic structure or a motif. The exploration, reworking, and development of a single or a group of simple ideas and how they may fit into a puzzle or figuring out how to convey a certain idea through music is fascinating to me.

I can be motivated by so many things. Often it is other music that I’ve listened to or a book I’ve read, also sounds or sights around me and in nature. These days I am motivated by worthy causes, and by the unresolved and troubling issues of our world.

Venezuela Unida, for example, was born from my growing concern for the people of my homeland and the severe crisis caused by the Bolivarian Revolution. 8’46” I wrote for the SFJAZZ Collective in memory of George Floyd, and recorded on the album New Works Reflecting the Moment.



My meditation practice has also served as a source of motivation. I composed a series of pieces titled Sorrows and Triumphs, recorded on the album by the same name, were inspired my by Buddhist studies. I came across a teaching called the Brahma Viharas, often translated as “divine abidings”, and sometimes called the Four Faces of Love.



In more practical terms, more often than not, I am motivated by a specific project, a recording session, or a performance with a great group of artists. Just the simple fact of having my music played by live musicians is enough motivation for me.

To quote a question by the great Bruce Duffie: When you come up with a musical idea, have you created the idea or have you discovered the idea?

To quote the great Vietnamese Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh, we should be careful with the use of the word “creation” as it tends to imply that we are making something out of nothing. He liked the word “manifestation” instead.

Nothing is ever created out of nothing, things manifest based on certain causes and conditions. Everything that has been “created” already existed in the universe in some form, we simply allow it to manifest. Our musical ideas are a result of everything that we have listened to, learned, and / or experienced until that moment. Master improvisers are like magicians. They can make listeners believe that they’re creating everything from scratch. This is not so.

When you listen extensively to and study a single artist, you realize that what he or she is “creating” are ideas and concepts that he or she has been working on for a lifetime and, what’s more, you can hear the influences of those masters which came before. What you’re hearing is a process.

Paul Simon said “the way that I listen to my own records is not for the chords or the lyrics - my first impression is of the overall sound.” What's your own take on that and how would you define your personal sound?

Yeah, the overall sound is the soul of the artist. His or her essential nature. I think one of the best compliments you can give to any artist is that they have an immediately recognizable sound.

My sound is informed by three main traditions: Latin American music, classical music, and jazz improvisation. This can be heard in the music I make.
 
Sound, song, and rhythm are all around us, from animal noises to the waves of the ocean. What, if any, are some of the most moving experiences you've had with these non-human-made sounds? In how far would you describe them as “musical”?

If we are attentive and open-minded enough, we can hear music in just about everything. I’ve had awe-inspiring experiences while driving through open spaces. Objects in our vision move at different rates depending on their distance: cars, trees, lights, landscapes, etc … Because they are at different distances, they appear to be moving at different rates and in relationship with each other. This creates rhythms and vibrations, this is music ...

Similarly, if we were to spend time in the rainforest, the sounds all around us create a beautiful symphony. Again, only if we are attuned to the character of these sounds, both individually and collectively can we hear it as music.

This experience of objects gradually appearing into view and revealing themselves is what I try to convey in my composition “The Beauty of Space.”



It begins with a single repeated note appearing out of silence. This establishes the pulse. Then the piano and bass join in, their parts moving at different rates and creating rhythmic cycles as it continues through a very slow crescendo and accelerando, gradually unfolding and revealing the main theme.

Another example is “Locura.” It was inspired by a drive across the United States when I moved my family from Florida to California.



In this composition, from the very beginning various instruments are moving along at different rates of velocity, all in relationship to each other and the pulse, much like the experience of driving along the highway.

Strangely, I’ve also been inspired by listening to music at very low volumes, or music that is heard in the background while other sounds are happening. When hearing music in this way, only certain aspects of the music can be perceived, resulting in a slightly incomplete or distorted version of the music, which can create or inspire a new version or idea for a completely new piece.

From very deep/high/loud/quiet sounds to very long/short/simple/complex compositions - are there extremes in music you feel drawn to and what response do they elicit?

Generally, I’m not too drawn to extremes. However, there is beauty to be found in extremes.

I’m most drawn to simplicity, symmetry and balance in music. There is a quote by Leonardo Da Vinci that I love which says: “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.” I continually strive for simplicity and balance. Simplicity offers a respite from the fast-paced highly technological modern world we live in.

My guiding principle is “less is more.”

Could you describe your creative process on the basis of one of your pieces, live performances or albums that's particularly dear to you, please?

The process consists of allowing myself the time to explore freely, to enter a state of flow where ideas can flow through without judgment.

I usually begin at the piano where I come up with usually a simple idea. I write these ideas down one paper or record them. I then let them percolate in my mind for some time - sometimes days or weeks, depending on how much time I have. This could be a harmonic structure or a motif. I then explore its permutations. I rework it until I find something that I like.

As I spend more time with it, it transforms into a composition. For jazz improvisers, the composition serves as a vehicle for improvisation. The more complex and notated the composition, the more it can be the main means of expression. When I’m writing music for a recording session I often have the musician’s sound in mind while composing.

Do you conduct “experiments” or make use of scientific insights when you're making music?

Most definitely. In a sense, every musical composition is an experiment. For me, a composition often starts with asking a question such as “what if ….?”

This could be: “what if I were to use a groove “x” and modify it in this way?” To take it out of its usual context and juxtapose it with this or that? “What if I were to combine a particular group of instruments together to create one sound or texture? What if I change the conventional roles of certain players or instruments?  What if I were to design the structure (form) of my piece based on a painting? What if I were to use derive rhythmic structures from the intervallic sequence of a mode or scale? Etc, etc…

How does the way you make music reflect the way you live your life? Can we learn lessons about life by understanding music on a deeper level?

I believe music can help us see and feel our interconnectedness in the world, that there is an intelligence behind everything and that the universe is made of vibration.

Understanding music on a deep level helps us see that each one of us is co-creating the world we live in. There can be harmony and at times there can be disharmony, and learning to resolve tensions and understanding their causes is of great importance for creating peace in our lives.

Music playing teaches us to meet others where they are; not above, not below; to identify the best qualities in others and help bring them out. It makes us realize, on an experiential level, that group effort produces a much greater result than the sum of the individual parts. It teaches us to appreciate the value that each part plays in the totality.

Do you feel as though writing or performing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?

Music-making involves a different part of your brain. For sure, performing a piece of music requires much higher levels of concentration and coordination than the average day-to-day activities.

With music, the range of expression is vast. With music, one can express the unnameable, the mysteries of life.

That said, you can bring the same quality of presence when doing any of those tasks and the result will be reflected in your coffee or piece of music.

Every time I listen to "Albedo 0.39" by Vangelis, I choke up. But the lyrics are made up of nothing but numbers and values. Do you, too, have a song or piece of music that affects you in a way that you can't explain?

The Adagio assai movement of the Ravel piano concerto in G Major gets me every time. It is one of the most beautiful pieces of music I’ve heard.



If you could make a wish for the future – what are developments in music you would like to see and hear?

My wish is that all artists may be fairly compensated for their work. That they, as creators, could feel safe, secure, and supported in the world.

I’d like to see technological developments which protect intellectual property and foster an appreciation for physical mediums and experiences, and the ritualistic aspect of art. My wish is for all artists to live happy lives.