Name: Petros Klampanis
Nationality: Greek
Occupation: Bassist, composer, arranger, producer, educator.
Current release: Petros Klampanis's Tora Collective is out via enya/yellowbird.

If you enjoyed this Petros Klampanis interview and would like to know more about his music, visit his official website. He is also on Instagram, Facebook, and twitter.



When did you first start getting interested in musical improvisation?  

I dare to say since I started playing music. Playing around with melodies and intentionally coming up with variations to etudes and piano exercises slightly, was a satisfying process.

Later on, around my teenage years, discovering the great jazz improvisers became a major source of inspiration. It still is.

Which artists, approaches, albums or performances involving prominent use of improvisation captured your imagination in the beginning?

I started with Miles Davis and Charlie Parker, as somehow a compilation CD of Bebop tunes ended up in my possession. Later on I got into Chick Corea’s electric Band and Dave Brubeck’s “Time Out” album.

Weather Report and Jaco Pastorius were also a big part of my early music years.

Focusing on improvisation can be an incisive transition. Aside from musical considerations, there can also be personal motivations for looking for alternatives. Was this the case for you, and if so, in which way?

Looking back I can tell that there were non-musical reasons that led me to choosing this path. Although I cannot tell with certainty, these reasons must have something to do with finding a parallel reality to the one of my teenage years in Zakynthos Island, GR.

Also, they must be related to the aspect of freedom and expression that comes with improvisation. The communication in a real, honest, non-verbal / poetic way. These are charming and intriguing qualities.

What, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to improvisation? Do you see yourself as part of a tradition or historic lineage?

Togetherness in the moment. Honesty and love. Kindness and inclusion. Not sure I am able to always serve these ideals, but I try.

With regards to the second part of your question, jazz possesses a big part of my heart and I have spent a big part of my life with it - either as a student (an ongoing process for most of us) or as a professional musician. On the other hand, I feel connected with a culture so rich musically that is impossible not to acknowledge.

This sort of dilemma or “double-identity”, which I am sure is familiar to many people of my generation and onwards, can be both confusing and creative. I try to choose the latter.

What was your own learning curve / creative development like when it comes to improvisation - what were challenges and breakthroughs?

It was a slow process. In the beginning, I would vary melodies that I was familiar with or reharmonize songs I knew, but this wasn’t improvisation per se. I had to go step by step, listen to many records, transcribe, learn my instrument … you know. The usual drill.

Playing with better musicians, especially in NYC made the process faster and certainly more fun - for me at least.

Tell me about your instrument and/or tools, please. How would you describe the relationship with it? What are its most important qualities and how do they influence the musical results and your own performance?  

It’s a complicated love affair. Most days I love my bass, but there are times that are just not inspiring and it literally feels like lifting weights. The bass has this low, warm human voice quality that made me fall for it.

Its understated, yet essential role in the band is another aspect that intrigues me. It is a physical instrument. One has to be fit - mentally and physically - in order to make the beast sing …

Can you talk about a work, event or performance in your career that's particularly dear to you? Why does it feel special to you? When, why and how did you start working on it, what were some of the motivations and ideas behind it?

I think the arrangement / reimagination of “Thalassaki” an old folk song from Greece, was a key moment in my musical journey, if you will.

It happened in my early years in New York and felt like a step towards embracing who I really was. Plus it sparkled the idea of creating Tora Collective, my new album.

How do you feel your sense of identity influences your collaborations? Do you feel as though you are able to express yourself more fully in solo mode or, conversely, through the interaction with other musicians? Are you “gaining” or “sacrificing” something in a collaboration?

My main guide when I collaborate with other musicians, or artists in general for that matter, is sensitivity - a quality that I appreciate a lot. Identity is secondary and honestly I find the blending of identities and cultural lineages very interesting and fruitful.

Sensitivity combined with vitality and fire just does it for me. This combination can’t go wrong.

Derek Bailey defined improvising as the search for material which is endlessly transformable. Regardless of whether or not you agree with his perspective, what kind of materials have turned to be particularly transformable and stimulating for you?

There are many kinds of materials that can be transformed to music. Emotions, recent experiences, people we know, vague memories, dreams (the ones we see while asleep or awake), ideologies, the Blues … you name it.

When you're improvising, does it actually feel like you're inventing something on the spot – or are you inventively re-arranging patterns from preparations, practise or previous performances?

It’s probably both. I see improvisation the way I see language. Do we invent something all the time when we talk? It depends on the day, the person we converse with, the subject, how we feel, etc. Sometimes it is magical and feels like the most satisfying thing in the world. Ideas flow effortlessly and things groove, leaving you with a sweet feeling.

But there are days that things aren’t as smooth. Like conversations. Like life.

To you, are there rules in improvisation? If so, what kind of rules are these?

There is a “grammar”, for sure. There are rules, again, in a similar way to the rules in a language. Music doesn’t carry a “tangible”, logical meaning in the way language does. It’s certainly a more open, poetic playground.

Rules are useful to set and then forget about them.

In a live situation, decisions between creatives often work without words. How does this process work – and how does it change your performance compared to a solo performance?

It depends. With a good band, on a good day, nothing feels wrong. This is the state of mind and sphere that we want to reach when performing. A place where anything can happen and everything is welcome.

In a solo performance, the decision-making is more personal, or in other words in conversation with ourselves. Can be fun, too.  

There are many descriptions of the ideal state of mind for being creative. What is it like for you? In which way is it different between your solo work and collaborations?

I get my creative juices flowing after doing a mundane process for a while (scale practising, harmonic exercises on the piano, etc). This feels like suppressing inspiration and at some point you let it go out. When this happens, I try to channel my son and the way kids play. I try to turn off my inner judge and just go with it.

I would add that solo work can be trickier than collaborations, for me at least. When working with another person it is usually lighter and it flows more - it depends on the person, of course.

How do you see the relationship between sound, space and performance and what are some of your strategies and approaches of working with them?

These three elements are very closely related. Space, sound and performance are affecting each other, either way.

Some spaces are tricky and not as welcoming as others. When in this kind of trouble, I try to envision the ideal sound in my mind and communicate it the best way I can.

And the same goes when performing with other people. The stronger the vision of the group, the better it translates and it can even overcome bad sonic conditions or a weird space.

In a way, improvisations remind us of the transitory nature of life. What, do you feel, can music and improvisation express and reveal about life and death?

Improvisation is a very sensitive and unique process. It indeed resembles the transient nature of life. It’s the celebration of the uniqueness of the moment. Of life, and unavoidably, its ending.

Until then, though, we are all together in this and we can connect through music.